No In-Between
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: There have been a few changes at the Sixteenth Precinct in the last year. People have come and gone, people have retired, passed away, or transferred. It's been difficult to rebound from it all, but the Special Victims Unit has done just that. When an old, familiar face returns, it sets into motion a series of events that will save lives, or destroy them. There is no in-between.
1. Chapter 1

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

A contemporary dancer. A kindergarten teacher. A lawyer. A professional race car driver. These were only some of the things she could have been instead of what she was. Only a few of the careers she had considered, though only briefly, before she enrolled in the police academy. At this moment, she was regretting that decision. She rubbed her eyes with one hand as the other reached for the chipped mug of cold coffee.

"Here," a mellow voice said coolly, dropping a hot cup of fresh java on the desk in front of her.

The aroma wafted upward, hitting her as she inhaled, and her eyes popped open. She looked at him for a moment, her eyes widening enough to show just how bloodshot they were. "Bless you," she said gratefully, immediately setting the mug down in favor of the foam cup. She took a sip, savoring the heat and freshness, and after she swallowed she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you coffee," he said, smirking. He sat on the edge of her desk and reached a hand out, brushing hair behind her left ear. "You haven't been home in days. I mean, shit, if this is anything like what I put Kathy through, no wonder she..."

"Benson, where are you with the..." Cragen stopped speaking, freezing as his right foot landed on the spot exactly halfway from his office to her desk. "Elliot," he almost whispered.

"Yeah," Elliot said, nodding. No smile was on his face, no hint of humor. "I'm not staying long."

Cragen took another step as he licked his lips. He folded his arms and asked, "Between cases?"

Elliot looked at Olivia and offered her a small smile. "Yeah, I took a few days off. I planned a family vacation, but, uh, you kind of put a stopper in it."

"Me?" Cragen asked, confused. "How did I..." he paused, looked from Elliot to Olivia, and noticed the way she was looking at him. His eyes narrowed but then widened slightly in realization. He let out a sharp breath and turned his attention back to Elliot. "Oh. Sorry. We're kind of short-staffed right now, I needed her on this."

Elliot gave a curt nod, a disbelieving grunt, and then he looked back down at Olivia. "Get this done, okay? It gets cold in that bed without you." He leaned over, kissed her cheek, kissed her lips, and whispered, "I love you." He stood up and headed out of the room, sending a harsh glare at Cragen over his shoulder before taking his final steps out of sight.

Olivia sighed as he faded from view, and she swiveled around in her chair in time to catch Cragen's questioning expression. She raised one eyebrow, gave him a slightly spiteful smirk, and asked, "What were you going to ask me?"

With another sigh, and the dismissal of several questions he had no right to ask, he finally brought himself closer to her. "I, um...I just needed to..." he took a breath. "Where are you with the ADA? Is Marcato being arraigned on all charges?"

"So far, just the rape," she said, leaning back in her chair. She picked up her coffee, took a sip, and said, "It's the only thing she can make stick until we get more solid evidence to connect him to the murder." She eyed Cragen as she took another sip of her coffee. "You gonna ask me?"

Cragen let a smile start on one side of his face. "How long?"

"Little over a year," she said, "And no, it doesn't get in the way of the job. His or mine." She scraped her teeth over her lower lip. "We've, um, crossed paths once or twice, helped each other out, but nothing insubordinate, inappropriate, or illegal, I assure you."

"You happy?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. He'd known, long before it became obvious to even her, that being with him was the key to her feeling any bit of true happiness.

She couldn't hide or help her grin. "Very," she said, and she looked down at her desk. "I'll be happier when this is over, though. I'm running on fumes, here. You know, I've asked him, I've begged him, he isn't coming back." She looked up at Cragen. "But it has nothing to do with me."

Cragen didn't have to wonder for too long, he knew what point she was trying to drive home. "I'm sifting through resumes." He blinked once. "Go home."

"What?" she almost scoffed. "You just told Elliot you needed me here, besides Munch, I'm the only one..."

"Go home, Olivia," Cragen said more firmly, interrupting her and raising his voice.

She shook her head, confused, grabbed her coffee, and walked out of the squad room. Unlike Elliot, she didn't look back. As she lifted her head, though, she chuckled. "You knew, didn't you?"

Elliot grinned smugly as he leaned against the wall near the elevator. He shrugged teasingly. "Had a feeling," he said, straightening up. He pulled her into his arms and into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, he wrapped her tighter in his embrace, took a deep breath, and kissed her.

It was a deep, soulful kiss, their tongues dancing and soft smacking, moaning sounds escaping through the small gaps between their lips as they moved. He backed away when he heard the faint ring of the bell, and he smiled at her. "I got a call, while I was waiting for you."

"Anyone I know?" She knew it was probably work, but if he felt the need to bring it up so vaguely, she'd play the game.

"Yeah, actually," he said, dragging his hand down to the slight dip at the small of her back. He walked through the lobby with her, almost protectively. "It was Ralph Meyers, the guy who used to work with..."

"Tucker," she finished for him. "I'm not going on-record again, whatever they need to hear to sweep it all under the rug, they can get somebody..."

"He's retiring," Elliot said, cutting her off. He had a shit-eating grin on his face, and when she turned to look at him, he laughed. "Not everything is about you, baby." He winked at her and gave her a playful shove toward his silver sedan.

She opened the passenger-side door and asked, "Why did he call to tell you that? I mean, as thankful as I am to see him go, I don't feel like going to his retirement party." She watched him sit and got herself settled as well. She was buckling her seatbelt when she heard his answer.

"He offered me a job," he said, blinking once. He waited until she turned to face him before continuing. He scratched his stubble-speckled chin and cleared his throat. "With him leaving, you know, uh, there's a shift in personnel. Griffin is getting a promotion, so is Tucker...not that he needs the power trip."

"What job?" She had gone white, her heart began to race. "Elliot, what job? Where?"

"Relax," he said soothingly. He reached across the console for her hand. "If it was anything that would take me away from you, I wouldn't even be considering it." He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, waiting, and when he saw her relax, he said, "I'd be taking Tucker's place. This...um, this would still be my jurisdiction, and I would be in direct charge of the captain and the staff of every unit, in every department of the NYPD."

She blinked, frozen and silent, until her mouth curled upward and she tilted her head. "That would be me, for one."

He nodded at her. "There's more, um..." He stopped and he scratched at his chin again. "Tucker, um...his promotion is to the..."

"Shit, he really would be your boss," she said with disappointment. She saw him nod. "Why you? Why now?"

"You really think I know? I have no fucking idea," he said, giving her a narrow-eyed expression. "But, uh, I talked to Tucker, and he was actually the one who put my name in for it. He thinks I'm the only one with the balls to take the job."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "You get an office?"

"Yeah," he said, one eyebrow raising. "Naughty thoughts, Detective Benson."

She let her smile widen. "You get a raise?"

He nodded, dropped her hand, and started the car. "It would be a pretty big one. We could look for a bigger house in a better neighborhood. And we could..."

"Did you tell Tucker about us?" She didn't mean to blurt it out so rudely, but she needed to know. The sudden thought was making her panic and if she had to choose between him and her job, again, she'd need to go back over her list of missed opportunities again to start filling out applications.

He squinted as he turned the wheel and stepped on the gas, bringing the car onto the highway. "The first thing I said to him was, 'I'm with Olivia." He rolled his shoulders. "He told me that he knew our feelings got in the way when we were partners, he told me he knew that being with you was the reason I left the unit." He looked at her as he stopped at a red light. "He said it didn't matter because he was pretty sure I won't have to deal with you getting into any kind of trouble, and if I ever did I would make it my only priority to fix it, which would be my job, anyway."

"I don't get it," she said softly. "He hates you. Fuck, he hates me! Is that what this is? He knows how much fucking shit we give him all the time, how much I despise him, and he's hoping to split us up because I'll hate you, too?"

Elliot laughed as he changed lanes and got ready to turn off the road. "No," he chuckled. "No, baby, he actually thinks it'll bring us closer. He knows I won't be on your ass the way he was." He smirked. "He also knows I'm actually on your ass in a way he will never be."

Rolling her eyes, she laughed. "Mature," she quipped.

"True," he corrected. He slowed down as he drove toward the toll for the bridge, slowly passing through the auto-pay lane. "I would be able to make my own hours, review cases, I could even pop in and shadow you every once in a while and claim it's professional observation." He smiled. "I could make sure we get home at the same time, we could go home together."

"You want the job," she confirmed, looking at him.

"I kinda do," he told her, and he glanced at her with a smile. "I won't take it if you think it's going to damage us, or if you think it's going to be too weird with me in that position of authority."

Her smile grew slightly wicked and she let out a dark sounding laugh. "I never have a problem with your authority." She sighed and closed her eyes. "There's no negative to this, El."

"There, uh, might be one," he said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her head pop up and her focus settle on him.

She waited, and when he remained quiet, she snapped at him. "What? What is it?"

"If I take the job, I start immediately," he told her. "I would take over Tucker's current investigation."

Her eyes widened a bit and a small gasp escaped. "Oh, honey," she said, her body slinking slowly deeper into the car seat.

He nodded resignedly. "Yeah," he whispered. "That's gonna be hard."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, sharing soft looks and comforting touches. He decided, as he pulled into his driveway, that he would take the job. But he didn't know, exactly, how to run an investigation involving a former friend, a former colleague, and a former boss. He would either salvage these relationships when the job was finished, or he'd destroy them entirely. With him, it was always one-or-the-other. He was a friend, or an enemy. He was a good-cop, or a bad-cop.

With him, there were simply no "in-betweens."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"I don't know," Olivia said, one hand linked with Elliot's, resting on her stomach as they lay snuggled on the couch, the other wrapped around a warm mug of coffee. "Three and a half cases a week, fifty-two weeks per year for fourteen years, um..." she hummed and let her eyes roll toward the ceiling. "A little over twenty-five hundred. Give or take."

"Wait, that's it?" Elliot asked her incredulously.

She chuckled. "Some took longer, some were open and shut. Some weeks we had five or six at once, some weeks we only had one. So it's really a lot more than that, why?"

"I was thinking, for our anniversary, I wanted to get you a rose for every case we closed as partners," he grinned and kissed her cheek.

"You know, I'd kill you," she said, half-kidding, and she shifted a bit against him. "Why did you really want to know?"

He shrugged and took the cup of coffee from her, sipped it, smiled at her annoyed grin, and handed it back to her. "I wanted a ball-park figure, gauging how long Tucker would be holed-up in his new office, reviewing all of them."

She laughed, strained a bit to kiss his lips, and settled back against him. "You figure out how you're going to handle things, tomorrow?"

He exhaled slowly, held her a little tighter, and said, "As delicately as possible."

"You wouldn't even handle bone china delicately," she teased. "Where are you gonna start, how much help are you gonna need?"

"I'll start with why Cragen can't keep anyone in those two empty desks for longer than a month," he said, reaching for her coffee again. She pulled her arm away, and he laughed as they played bait-and-catch for a minute. He finally gripped the mug, pulled, and gave a victorious 'hmph' before staring into her eyes and drinking. He gave a deliberately exaggerated moan of satisfaction and licked his lips.

In response, she moved fast, kissing him slowly, and as she pulled back, she licked his lips again. "You're playing with fire," she warned, taking her coffee back and sipping the last of it. She leaned over and set the mug down on the glass coffee table. "You were saying?"

"After I figure out what the issues are with the revolving-door-of-detectives in that unit, I'll start on Fin," he nudged her up, sitting a bit straighter. "I want to believe he's innocent, here, Liv.

"I do, too," she said softly. "He hasn't told me anything. We've barely talked since you..." she stopped. "I don't know him any more than you do, at this point."

"I've gone over the files twice, since I called Tucker and took the job," he scratched at the nape of his neck. "There are so many pieces missing."

"That's why he's on paid-leave and not in Rikers," she said. "We don't have enough to make charges stick, and we have too much to clear him completely."

"Hey, remember when you were..." He stopped mid-sentence, the glaring look in her eyes enough to make him freeze. "I was just...um...I was gonna say that it was one of the worst experiences of my life, and I didn't sleep until I proved you were innocent."

"I know," she said.

"I knew you didn't do it," he said. "And not just because you were with me, honey, I know you." He sighed again and squeezed his eyes shut, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't say I definitively know that Fin couldn't do something like this."

"Well, baby, it's your job to find out, now, isn't it?" she said, elbowing him playfully in his side.

He laughed but he tilted his head toward her. "I could cal Tucker back, tell him I changed my mind."

"You won't," she said, rising to her feet.

He heaved another audible sigh. "Yeah, you're right," he said, following her lead and standing. He picked up the empty foam food containers, used plastic utensils, and he shook his head. He took the same path she had, into the kitchen. "You know, we have a stocked fridge, and yet, we still eat take-out three times a week." He tossed the trash into the can and folded his arms.

"Old habits die hard," she yelled to him, over her shoulder, as she loaded the empty cups and her coffee mug into the dishwasher. She pushed a few buttons, fit a detergent packet in its place, shut the door, and hit start. She felt him behind her before she turned around, and as soon as the heat of his body hit hers, she moaned and dropped her head back, closing her eyes. "Hello, there."

He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Hi." His lips brushed the tip of her nose and then teased her lips, barely letting their skin swipe against each other. He heard her whimper and he pressed into her a bit more, his hot breath hitting her lips and chin as he asked, "Sorry, is there something you want?"

She moaned again, arched her back, and wriggled against him, feeling him stiffen. "Same thing you want, apparently," she told him. She lowered her voice. "Kiss me," she demanded in a whisper.

He growled a bit as he let his lips land on hers. His hands moved upward from her hips, under her tee shirt, across her bare chest, until each of his palms had cupped a breast. He squeezed once, moaning, and kissed her with more fervor before letting his fingertips toy with her nipples. He caught her yelp in his mouth, laughed into hers, and gave a hard thrust of his hips.

She pulled away from him and turned around in his arms, hunger and desire in her eyes. She propelled into him again, wrapping her arms around his neck and slammed her mouth into his, kissing him harder than before. She moaned again when she felt herself being lifted up, and she gave a soft grunt when she was dropped onto the top of the dishwasher.

He nipped at her lips, licked and teased her mouth as he fumbled with the elastic of her flannel pants. He inched back from her, smirked at her with smoke and fire emanating from him, and just as he pulled the purple, plaid cotton lower, the melodic ring of the doorbell echoed through the house.

"Oh, fuck, no," she complained, her head snapping toward the family room as though it had somehow seriously offended her. "Kill them."

He laughed breathlessly, fixed her pants, and pulled her off of the machine, holding her around his waist. "Only if you help me hide the body," he said, and he kissed her tenderly as he carried her into the other room. He dropped her to her feet just before he wrapped his hand around the brass knob. He closed one eye and looked through the peep-hole. "What the hell..." he mumbled, pulling the door open. "What happened?" he asked, practically pulling the visitor into the house. He shut the door, turned fast, and wrapped one arm around Olivia.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I just..." the man shrugged, "I had nowhere else to go." He looked down and his eyes widened. "Oh, wow, um, you have white carpet in here."

"It's okay," Olivia offered. "With five kids, there's been blood on it before." She pushed Elliot away and went in search of a first-aid kit and a bottle of water.

"What happened," Elliot asked again.

The man cleared his throat. "I was, uh, at a bar with a...a, um, friend," he blinked. "I paid the tab and walked her to her car, then walked to mine..and then...well, I...I don't remember, but when I came to, my car was gone, so was my wallet, and my phone. The, uh, the only address I knew...the only person I knew who lived in the area was you, so I just...I walked here," he explained fast, and then used his ripped suit sleeve to wipe a bit of dried, caked blood off of his mouth. "Again, I'm sorry, I would call first, under normal circumstances...well, under no circumstances, really. I wouldn't consider us friends, at least not the...ow." He hunched over and both hands shot to his right side.

"Sit," Elliot said, helping the man to the leather couch. He turned at Olivia's footsteps, taking the bottle of water out of her hands. He opened it as he watched her sit beside a broken, beaten, bruised Trevor Langan. "Here," he said, handing the water to him.

Trevor took it, nodding his thanks, and leaned his head to the side so Nurse Olivia could clean and bandage the large cut on his cheek. He watched her put on a pair of latex gloves and start laying out bottles and tubes. "You really don't have to do this, Olivia. I didn't even expect you'd let me in, I just thought you'd take a statement out on the porch or something, call an ambulance and send me on my way."

"Don't be ridiculous," Olivia said, soaking another cotton ball in peroxide. "After what you did for me...for us..." she looked up at Elliot, the memory and wounds it held still fresh. "You need us, we're here," she said, tapping the astringent along the gash on his forehead. "Is there someone we can call?"

He nodded. "Alex," he said. "Cabot. She was the, um, friend."

Olivia peeled the paper off of a few bandages as she gave the go ahead for Elliot to call Alex, and she carefully applied them to his wounds. "You two giving it another shot?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He nodded, but winced as it hurt to do it. "She's been through a lot, and we really did have a connection," he said. "We're in different places now, so maybe...maybe it's our time. Like it's yours with Elliot." He tried to smile. "We all saw that coming a mile away, so, may I say, congrats and it's about damn time."

She laughed and closed the medical case, before setting on the coffee table and scooping up the trash. She held it all in one gloved hand, pulling it off and around her fist, making a sort-of bag. She tied it in a knot and noticed Trevor looking at her funny. "Evidence," she said.

"I thought you used evidence bags for that," he said, gingerly pressing a finger to the bandage on his cheek.

She raised one eyebrow. "I don't have a steady supply of them in my house, Langan."

"Oh, right, I..." he scoffed at himself. "I forgot we weren't at the station." He looked at her, just now noticing her state of dress. "Oh, no, I woke you up."

"No, we were..." she cleared her throat and tossed her hair back. "We were both wide awake."

"Alex is on her way," Elliot said, returning the phone to its cradle and standing near the end of the couch, right next to Olivia. "You want to go get cleaned up? I have clothes you can borrow, we, uh, we'll bag up your suit and have the lab work their magic on it."

Trevor looked up at Elliot, not understanding why he was being so nice to him, but he nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Hey, like Liv said, you were there for us when we needed you, even though, at the time, we really didn't want to need you." He ran a hand down his face. "In the courtroom, we're mortal enemies, but off the field, man, you've got a couple of friends." He jerked his head toward the staircase. "Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is, and I'll get you those clothes."

Trevor stood, though his body was shaking, and he shot Olivia a grateful, though pitiful look as he walked with Elliot. "Thank you," he said to her. He almost stumbled on the first stair, but Elliot supported him, and guided him up the next few until he steadied himself.

She nodded with a soft smile, and as they walked up the stairs, she couldn't help feeling like she knew exactly who attacked Trevor.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Keeping her voice low, Olivia pulled Elliot back into the kitchen once Alex had arrived. She guided him into a corner and rolled her eyes when he wrapped his arms around her. "I didn't bring you in here to pick up where we left off," she laughed.

"Didn't think you did," he said with a smile as he moved to kiss her. "We can always just start right from the beginning."

She kissed him back and then swatted at him. "No," she hissed, "I just didn't want them to hear this."

"I don't want them hearing it either," he joked, pulling her closer and burying his face in her neck. "What is it?" he asked against her skin, and then let his teeth sink into her flesh a bit. He let out a groan as he sucked on her pulse.

In reaction, she moaned and her head fell back, her hands gripped the loose fabric of his pants, but she held back the need to press on and pushed him away with a hard, "Elliot! I'm serious."

He immediately straightened. "Sorry, I didn't..." he noticed the grave look on her face, and he realized that she really didn't just want to be alone with him. "Liv, what? What's wrong?"

"Trevor's defending Hardwick," she said. "The case I told you about, the one that..."

"The judge's daughter," he whispered, nodding. "You think he was attacked because..."

"I kept telling Cragen I thought Hardwick was paid to attack Judge Samuelson's kid," she explained fast, as quietly as she could. "She wasn't his type, he was outside of his comfort zone, and it wasn't his usual MO." She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. "El, he had a rap sheet a mile long, three prior rapes in a different jurisdiction, where he knew how to work the system to get off, and I think..."

"Someone got tired of seeing him get away with it," he finished for her, his head leaning to one side.

"Kate Samuelson's brother got into it with Langan during Hardwick's arraignment," Olivia whispered. "He made threats, El, said that Trevor had to be the worst kind of scum to defend the man who raped and killed Kate, and that if he ever got the chance he'd..."

"Okay," Elliot interrupted, nodding. "We should take Langan's official statement, let Alex take him to the hospital...he may have a broken rib or two." He rubbed his eyes. "We'll get dressed and get his clothes to the lab and then you go have a little chat with the brother."

"Good plan," she said, raising an eyebrow. "What are you going to do?"

"My job," he said, "After I get us a couple of coffees."

She chuckled as she watched him walk out of the kitchen. She took a breath and followed him, knowing it was up to her to take the statement, since it was no longer of Elliot's purview. She yawned as she headed into the living room. Her night, obviously, was over, and day was off to a shitty start.

Three hours later, she was settled at her desk with lab results in one hand and her phone in the other. "And when was the last time you saw him?" She looked up as a man in a gray suit approached her desk. She took the stack of papers he held out to her and she mouthed, "Thanks," as she continued to listen to her phone call. "And what time was that? Are you sure? Thank you. If I have any more questions, I..."

"Benson," Cragen called as he stalked toward her desk, "I just got a phone call from Judge Samuelson, you were at his house this morning asking ridiculous questions and upset his wife! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She hung up the phone, having ended the conversation, and without saying a word, she handed him the papers that were just given to her. "Proving myself right," she uttered as he took them from her. She tugged on the sleeves of her purple crew-neck, waiting for the apology she assumed was coming.

Cragen scanned the pages, his expression unreadable. "And you're sure about this? He already lost one kid, I'm not taking the other one away unless..."

"His girlfriend just confirmed that he left her place around nine-o'clock, telling her he had some unfinished business to tend to." She picked up a small flip-up notepad and thumbed a few pages. "I asked Morales to run a trace on the GPS in his phone, it placed him three blocks away from the bar where Trevor and Alex were, at ten-forty-five. Trevor was attacked at eleven-fifteen."

She dropped the pad back into her desk and looked up at Cragen. "Since he stole Trevor's car, I figured he left his own right where it was parked. I had Dennis and Ruckman take a ride, they found it. Couple of guys are bringing it in."

She handed him another piece of paper. "Not to mention the blood on Trevor's jacket scored a familial hit in the system. Twelve markers in common with Judge Samuelson. That's a brother or a son. He doesn't have a brother."

Cragen tossed the papers down onto Olivia's desk and put his hands on his hips. "Running cases on your own, now?"

"When I know I'm right," she answered with a smug and an innocent shrug. "You always tell me to follow the evidence, no matter where it leads. This is where it led."

Cragen shook his head and crossed his arms. "Elliot got the promotion," he said. "Not you. Next time you have a hunch, you run it by me. You can't just go accusing people of..."

"The evidence is right in front of you!" Olivia spat, rising from her seat. "We got him on this, Cap!"

"Your job," Cragen said, pointing a finger at Olivia, "Was to pin down Hardwick with something solid, not cause Judge Samuelson and his family any more grief! Now, you've got dirt on his son, we have no choice but to file the charges." He narrowed his eyes. "You should have come to me the minute you found out about this."

"You would have really just let him off?" Olivia asked, stunned. "He attacked an attorney! Someone we know, and work with!"

"He knocked Trevor Langan around a bit!" Cragen said dismissively, waving a hand. "You said you even felt like beating the shit out of him once or twice, Benson."

Olivia couldn't believe what she was hearing, or that it was coming from Cragen. "I would never have really..."

"You were out of line with this," Cragen said, interrupting her and shaking his head. "You have to bring him in, but he's already got a damn-good lawyer. He'll get a slap-on-the-wrist and be home in time for lunch." He turned away from her, taking the first steps back toward his office.

"You know," she said, stopping him, "You were always the one who used to tell us to bring in the bad guy, no matter who it was." She took a step forward when he didn't turn to look at her. "If it was a crooked cop, a state DA, and forget about judge's kids, Cap, we've brought in actual judges and put them away because you taught me that no one is above the law." She said her next few words pointedly. "No one."

Cragen slowly turned, the tension in his eyes relaxing the slightest bit and his shoulders slumping and rounding. "Bring in the kid," he said, shaking his head. "And then get your ass back on Hardwick." He turned back toward his office but before he reached the door, another voice, not Olivia's, stopped him again.

"Captain Cragen," the man said from the open archway.

Cragen turned his head and smiled bitterly. "Oh, great." He sighed. "What do you want, Elliot?"

"Oh, uh, I'm here on business, so it's Sergeant Stabler, actually," he said stepping forward. "You have a minute or two? I have a couple of questions for you, and I need answers."

"Sergeant...really," Cragen bemoaned, dragging his tongue along his teeth. He kept his eyes on Elliot and opened his office door. "Come on in, then," he said.

Elliot glanced at Olivia, the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he winked at her, but as soon as he stepped up to Cragen's door, he grew serious. "This won't take too long."

Cragen nodded at him, and then shot a last look in Olivia's direction before closing the door.

Sighing, Olivia turned her attention back to the two case-files splayed open on her desk. She began to make notations in the margins, initialing each one, when her desk phone rang. She reached for it with one hand as the other kept working. "Special Victims, this is Detective..." she froze and her eyes widened. "Where are you? No, stay there, I'm coming to get you." She shuffled things around to find her keys. "Don't...don't apologize, just...when we get back here you have to talk to..." she got up as she listened. "It's not Tucker. Elliot. I know, Fin, but now you don't have a choice. Five minutes."

She hung up the phone and grabbed her black jacket. She looked over at Cragen's door, weighing the consequences of leaving without telling him or interrupting what she assumed was an intense conversation. She exhaled, and as she left the squad room, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and sent Elliot a brief but explanatory text message.

She shoved the phone back in her pocket, and as she made her way down the hall she checked her gun and made sure she had her backup piece at her back. Stepping into the elevator, she hoped to God that Fin was finally going to talk. She let herself believe he was going to clear his name, and make things right.

The doors slid closed in front of her and she flicked the hair out of her eyes as she let the possibility sink in; she could be dead wrong.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"Well, honey," Elliot sighed as he walked through the front door, "I am definitely persona-non-grata at the..." he had turned, then, spotting the man sitting on his couch, right next to Olivia. "Three seconds to explain," he said, pointing a finger at his girlfriend.

"He's talking," she said. "I told him he should wait for you, but he said if he didn't start now..."

"I'd change my mind," Fin said, nodding. He squinted and tilted his head. "Did you just call her 'honey?"

Elliot didn't answer him. He took a few steps forward, looking from Olivia to Fin, and then sat down in the large, cushioned chair beside the sofa. "Would it be too much to ask for you to start over?"

"No need," Olivia said, turning her phone over in her hand.

Elliot looked down at it and saw the red circle on the screen; she was recording the conversation. "Okay, so just...go on." He waved a hand and sat forward.

Fin took a breath and dropped his hands to his knees, wiping his palms on his jeans. "The next thing I know, I'm in the box, Cragen's yelling at me, telling me not to say a damn thing, and two fellas from IAB that I never met were asking me questions I couldn't answer." He looked at Olivia. "Truth is, I don't know if I did it. I can't remember." He glanced at Elliot, but then looked at Olivia again. "I got my clothes from that night. They're in one of those vacuum-seal bags, under my bed. I knew, eventually...they'd be evidence."

"Good, that's...that's good, Fin," Olivia said, offering him the best smile she could muster. "Do you think...you could've been drugged?"

"Would explain why I can't remember shit, but, Liv, I'm not exactly a ripe target," Fin said, shrugging.

"Fin, man," Elliot said, "You know anyone is a target, if someone wants them to be. You worked SVU for how long? We've seen guys twice your size and three-times as intimidating become victims." He scratched the stubble on his chin and gave an audible, pensive sigh. "You said Cragen told you not to talk?"

"He told me to keep my mouth shut, no matter what," Fin restated. "Said if I didn't say anything to anybody, eventually they'd just let it all go. Not enough evidence, no case." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "It got too much, man. Home, on lock-down, treated like I'm guilty by everyone I know." He sighed again. "I'll take you to my place. Give you those clothes. Maybe...I think I spilled my drink on my shirt, maybe I..."

"We'll have the lab run it all," Olivia said, attempting to sound comforting. She stopped recording and put her phone back in her pocket. "You did the right thing, Fin."

"Yeah," Fin said as he slowly breathed, closing his eyes and nodding glumly. He shifted in his seat and then opened his eyes and looked at Elliot. "Now, I heard you call Liv..."

"Yeah," Elliot said, chuckling. He gave a palms-up shrug. "You did. We, uh...we've been together for a while, now. No one knew, so, don't be offended."

"And you're a rat now? When the hell did that happen?" Fin asked, shaking his head, "I haven't been gone that long, Stabler."

"Relax," Elliot laughed. "I just took the job yesterday." He leaned forward and looked into his former friend's eyes. "I have to do my job, Fin. If the evidence tells us you did this, I can't look the other way. I can't..."

"No one's asking you to," Fin interrupted. "I just need to know...I need to know what happened that night. If I did it or not, I just need to know." He looked at Olivia. "If I did it, Liv, I want you to do the honors. I won't resist."

Olivia felt a chill run down her spine, but she nodded, promising him that if she had to, she would be the one to arrest him for rape and murder. "The sooner we get your clothes back to the lab, the sooner we'll know."

"Right," Fin said, rising to his feet. He looked at Elliot. "I'm guessing you're driving?"

Elliot nodded. "Internal investigation," he said with a wave of his head and a flat expression. He led Fin and Olivia out of the house, toward the car.

"What were you trying to tell me?" Olivia asked, getting into the passenger seat.

Elliot got Fin settled in the back-seat, then ran around to the driver's side and got into the car. As he fastened his seat-belt, he said, "Cragen didn't appreciate my tone."

"Well, I didn't really appreciate his, today, either," she said bitterly, folding her arms.

Elliot smirked. "I read him the riot act about that, too," he said, licking his lips. "I told him if he didn't fill at least one spot, permanently, by the end of the week, I would hire someone myself." He turned the wheel and stepped on the gas, heading back toward Manhattan, to Fin's apartment. He looked at him through the reflection of the rear-view mirror. "If we clear you, you still have a job at SVU. I need you to know that. I'm not gonna ruin you for this."

"You mean not like Tucker would," Fin scoffed. "Like he tried to do with Liv." He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Not saying I'm not happy she stuck around, but how the hell...I mean, any other cop, even falsely accused of murder...they'd be serving fries or washing cars, no pension, no nothing."

"She was framed," Elliot said. "She was a victim, and even assholes like Tucker know that in a case like that..."

"I could be," Fin interrupted, staring out the window. "You know. Be a victim."

"It's entirely possible," Elliot said, giving a single nod. "We're going to find out."

Fin closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath, but his whole body was shaking. "I could be the perp, too," he said, almost a whisper.

Olivia turned to look at him. "Like Elliot said," she began, "We're going to find out."

Fin nodded, but his heartbeat raced just as fast as the car's engine.

The three of them were silent for the rest of the ride, only Olivia and Elliot sharing slight glances and mumbled whispers that Fin could neither hear nor understand. Elliot parked the car in a visitor's spot, got out of the vehicle, and opened the back door. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Full cooperation," Fin said, getting out of the car. He fished around in his pocket and handed Elliot his keys. "One way or the other, I need to fucking know, man."

Elliot nodded as he chewed on his bottom lip and walked just ahead of Fin and Olivia to open the door to the building. He led them up four flights of stairs, held the level's door open for them, and then met them at Fin's apartment door. "You can't touch anything, he said to Fin, turning the key.

"I know the drill," Fin said, rolling his eyes. He followed Olivia and Elliot into the living room, and then he moved aside, standing in a corner with his arms crossed.

"You said...under the bed?" Olivia asked, looking questioningly at Fin. He nodded at her, and then she nodded at Elliot.

Elliot led Olivia into Fin's bedroom, heading right for the bed. He was about to go fishing underneath the box-spring, but he stopped himself, turned slowly, smiled at Olivia, and held out a hand.

She laughed and shoved her hand in her jacket pocket. She pulled out a latex glove and slapped it into Elliot's open palm. "Some things never change."

"Hey, usually I got a couple somewhere," he defended. "I didn't think I'd need them today." He dropped to his knees, reached a hand under the bed, and grabbed what he felt could be the bag of clothes. "Hey, Liv?" he called.

She looked over at him, seeing what had him so surprised. "Could be wine," she said, "He said he thought he spilled his drink."

"Does Fin even drink wine?" Elliot asked, his brows knitted.

"It was a swanky place, a high-class event," she told him. "He may not have had a choice." She watched as Elliot got back up to his feet and scraped her teeth along both lips. "This feels wrong."

He nodded, agreeing. "Hopefully, we're setting him free, here." He looked at her, and though many parts him were screaming to kiss or comfort her, he knew this needed to be business, by-the-book. "Let's take him down to the station, bring this stuff to the lab. I need you to write up a report and a transcript of your conver..."

"One day on the job, and you're already Captain Bossypants," she teased, shaking her head. She gave him a small smile and walked out into the living room to tell Fin where they were heading.

Elliot looked down at the plastic-encased clothes in his hands. He was holding what would either convict or exonerate someone who used to be a friend, and no matter what the outcome, it was a relationship that would never be entirely repaired. "Shit," he spat, and then he slumped over a bit. He just realized he would be going back to the precinct, with Olivia, and there was no doubt at all that she would find out exactly what had happened between him and Cragen. "Just...fucking...shit," he hissed again, and he stomped out of Fin's room, into a lot more trouble than he was expecting.

 _ **Peace and Love,**_

 _ **Jo**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Elliot took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. "I have gone over every scrap of black and red ink in these files," he said, "There is nothing in any of them that merits..."

"Self-preservation," Cragen said, interrupting him. "The minute I saw any of them do or say anything that would compromise a case, or this unit, I showed them the door." He looked at Elliot with loftiness, disparagement in his eyes. "I'm not making that mistake again."

"Oh," Elliot said, with a single, short, bitter and biting laugh. "So hiring me was a mistake?"

"No," Cragen shook his head and crossed his arms. "Keeping you on when I realized rules and regulations meant nothing to you, covering your ass every time you fucked up, and letting you keep your partner when I knew..."

"Knew what?" Elliot snapped. He took one step toward Cragen. "We did our jobs, and despite what you're telling yourself now, we did it better than anyone ever has, or ever will." He dropped his hands and gave a defeated shrug and another dejected laugh. "Come on, Cragen," he said, making a rather lordly face at him. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Cragen's nose reddened, his nostrils flared and his jaw tightened. He ran one hand over his head, feeling the thin gray strands of what was left of his hair bend under his touch. "Both of you..." he stopped to grind his teeth against the inside of his right cheek. "You should have lost your jobs, ten times over. The amount of hot water you let yourselves fall into could bathe every elephant in the world, twice. You never gave a shit about anyone but each other, and you never gave a shit what that could cost you!"

"But did we," Elliot started, taking another step, "Do our jobs?" He squinted a bit. "Did we nail the bastards? Did we save lives when we could? Did we make this department look fucking epic?"

Cragen said nothing, he simply closed his eyes and pressed his thin, weathered lips together. "At a cost," he whispered. Opening his eyes, he shook his head again. Still speaking softly, he said, "You've both been arrested, accused of murder, brought up in front of the Morris commission and the fucking FBI has both of you on speed dial. You have more notations for insubordination between the two of you than the rest of the NYPD combined, complaints from suspects and witnesses, and how many times did you two injure, nearly kill someone in that interrogation room? Not to mention the record number of times you needed to use lethal force to..."

"And it was all because we had no choice!" Elliot yelled. "We did our fucking jobs! If that's how you looked at it all, then, yeah, you should have just fired me, or her, or both of us! Look me in the damn eyes and tell me why you didn't!"

"You obviously think you already know," Cragen said with a roll of his eyes, afraid to admit the truth. He felt his heart beating rapidly beneath his aching chest, so hard that he thought it would burst. He took a deep breath and pulled on the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt, hoping his emotions were well-concealed.

"There's a reason you haven't filled that empty desk," Elliot said, his voice softer. "And I am standing here, telling you, face-to-face," he paused to take a calming breath. "I'm not coming back."

Cragen froze. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply again, and opened them to to look at Elliot. "Because of your relationship with her?" he asked, it sounded so accusatory. "You said it yourself, I could have fired your ass for that years ago."

Elliot narrowed his eyes a bit. "There was nothing..."

"Elliot," Cragen interrupted again, "I can be honest with you, now, so please, afford me the same courtesy."

Elliot cleared his throat. Something flashed in his blue eyes and he was sure Cragen saw it, and that he knew what it meant. "We...that...look, it's the past, and that's not why we're here." He licked his lips and gestured a tired hand to the stack of files on his desk. "Any one of those people..."

"They're not you, Elliot," Cragen said sadly.

"No, they'll never be me," Elliot said smugly. "But they're good cops, and they want this job." He swiped a bit of dust off of the corner of Cragen's desk and leaned on it, running his hands over his dark blue suit pants.

Cragen turned and reached past Elliot for the top file, but then said, as he straightened up again, "Are you pushing for a hire because you're concerned about the unit, or because you're tired of Liv working overtime."

"Both," Elliot spat. "Overworking her will make her tired, pissed off, and she won't be running at full speed the way she should. That makes the whole unit suffer." He scratched under his chin. "And we want...certain things that we can't have if she's here all the time, doing the work of three people."

Cragen knew exactly what he meant, and he nodded as he flipped open the file in his hands. "This one...she's more than qualified, and she...is a she." He looked up. "The last thing I need is you writing someone up just because you're jealous."

Elliot had to laugh, but part of him was relieved the person finally taking his place was a woman. "Now, we got that out of the way, I need your full statement on what, exactly, happened with..."

"Fin?" Cragen questioned. He watched Elliot nod and then he walked around to the back of his desk and sat in his leather seat with a heavy sigh. "You didn't waste any time," he said.

"What?" Elliot hissed, turning and plopping into a chair in front of Cragen's desk.

Cragen shook his head. "You've turned into Tucker."

Beyond the door, Olivia sat at her desk with two files and a stack of papers from the lab. She'd gone over them, read them three times each, and she was trying to make sense of it all. "Doesn't...this doesn't add up," she muttered to herself as she absentmindedly twirled and clicked a ball-point pen with her left hand.

Munch, hearing her, looked up. "What doesn't?"

"The lab ran every test imaginable on Fin's clothes," she said, looking up with a puzzled expression. Her dark hair fell into her eyes, she used the pen to brush it away, and she scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. "They even ran toxicology, to see if there was anything abnormal in the wine he spilled. God, the amount of tranquil..."

"So he was drugged?" Munch spoke too fast, not letting Olivia finish speaking.

Olivia bit her lip. "With levels like this, he would've been knocked flat on his ass. There's no way he'd even be able to stand up on his own, forget rape and murder." She handed him the file. "The stains on his shirt and pants were definitely red wine, but there were trace amounts of blood. Not enough for any kind of serious injury, and it was all his."

"Should you be telling me any of this?" Munch asked, looking at her with a slightly bent head.

"Shit, no," she said quickly, ripping the file back from him. "Sorry, I wasn't..."

"I know why you're on the case," Munch said, sighing audibly. "And I know why I'm not." He folded his arms and gave her an unsure yet sad smile. "But that's...that's all good news, isn't it?"

"If he drank the wine and didn't just spill it, then yes," she said, but then she looked down at the rest of the papers sprawled across her desk. "If he didn't, then none of those drugs were in his system, and he would have been able to..." She stopped speaking when her throat closed up. She shook her head and said, "I can't talk about this with you."

Munch nodded, understanding. He watched her hunch over her desk again, his wizened features filling with compassion and sympathy for her. He noticed the way her blouse fit, a bit looser than normal, and he knew that he was seeing the physical signs of the stress that her working alone was causing. He sat up straighter and said, "Hey, Benson?"

"Hmm," she responded, re-reading one of the lab reports.

"I'll finish your five on the Hardwick case, if it'll help," the older man offered. He knew what it was like to be the workhorse, years of being the only one willing and able. It's why he moved around so much, why he was so broadly decorated in three separate state departments. He also knew the damage it had done, first hand, and how he was now counting down the days until he could retire and finally get some rest. He looked at her and held out a hand, smiling.

"John, I..." she exhaled and smiled back at him, sifting through a pile of things on her desk. She handed him the Hardwick file and said, "Thank you."

He nodded, pushed his glasses further up on his nose, and set off on filling in the missing parts of the case report.

Cragen's door opened wide, just then, causing Munch and Olivia to look up at it, waiting.

Olivia held her breath until she saw Elliot come out of the office. She eyed him up and down, trying to discern if this conversation had been as personal and painful as the previous one. She saw the look in his eyes, the glum expression on his face, and she knew it must have been even worse. He wasn't angry, this time; he was hurt.

Elliot walked over to Olivia's desk and pointed at the open folders on her desk. "That all what I think it is?"

She nodded, straightening it all out and handing it to him. "I'm even more confused now than I was last night."

"Well, I might be able to clear up a few things," he told her. He looked over his shoulder once and sighed, closing his eyes. "We need to go talk to Fin, and, uh, call Trevor."

Olivia furrowed her brow but stood up, knowing that she had to listen when he gave an order, even if it was given casually.

"If he's feeling better, he, uh, he owes us a couple of favors, right?" He pressed a hand against her back and walked with her toward the door.

"El, what happened in there?" she asked as they headed for the elevator. "You think Cragen needs a lawyer, now?"

Elliot sighed as he lightly shoved her into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, he ran a hand down his face. "No," he said. "I think Fin does."

 _ **Thank you for reading.**_

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"So how do I prove that?" Fin asked, concerned as he looked up at Olivia and Elliot.

Elliot shrugged. "You should have been more upfront about all of this sooner. Anything you ingested us gone through your system already, so even if we ran tests now, it would..."

"Yeah, I know," Fin interrupted with a sad sigh. "What's going on with Cragen?"

Elliot pressed his lips into a flat line and scratched behind his left ear. "They're going to have to deal with Captain Munch for a couple of days. He tried to make this go away, concealed evidence. I'm trying to work around having to bring him down for obstruction but..." he stopped and waved off the thought. "I called you a lawyer. The DA wants this case on the calendar, and I don't want to say it, but even though it's all circumstantial, the evidence is..."

"Yeah," Fin interrupted again as he held up his hands, stopping Elliot. "What lawyer?"

"That would be me," Trevor Langan said, stepping up behind Elliot. "All I need to do, in your case, is prove that there's reasonable doubt. I can definitely do that."

Fin looked at Langan, and then back at Elliot. "Him?"

"Hey," Elliot almost yelled. His eyes had narrowed and his eyebrows nearly met in a V. "I didn't have to call anyone for you. You could've just been handed a public defender or had to pay for a lawyer who wouldn't fight the way Langan would."

Rolling his eyes, Fin looked at Langan. "You'd do this for me?"

"I'm not doing it for you," Trevor said. He looked at Elliot. "I need to be alone with him, privileged."

"Yeah," Elliot said with a nod. "I know. Thanks for this."

Trevor nodded back and smiled, and then took his seat at the table across from Fin as Elliot left the room.

"Where do we go from here?" Olivia asked, stepping right in line with him as he walked.

He nodded to a guard who opened the metal doors for him and Olivia, and then turned to her. "We investigate, the way it should have been done. We start by going to see the ME who worked on the girl."

"El," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know," he said. He led her through the hallways and held the front door open for her, and when she walked in front of him, his eyes traveled downward and he grinned. He licked his lips appreciatively as he watched her ass and hips move with each new step, memorizing the pattern of stitching on the back pockets of her pants.

As if she knew, could feel him staring, she smirked and stood a bit taller. She raised one brow and turned her head slightly to her left, peering at him over the shoulder of her brown leather jacket. "Enjoying the show?"

He nodded as he gave an affirmative moan, and then picked up the pace to catch up to her. "You really didn't interview anyone? You didn't get the autopsy report?"

"Cragen kept us all out of it," she told him as they walked to the car. "Told us he wanted IAB to handle it, that he didn't think we could be objective. The only reason I knew what was going on is..."

"Tucker trusts you," Elliot said, nodding. He opened her car door for her, watched her get in, and closed it carefully. He ran around to the other side of the car, got in, and looked at her. "And now I'm in charge, and I need you working it. It's an SVU case, Cragen doesn't get to just ignore that fact."

Olivia nodded. "While you were talking to Fin, I got a call. After fighting with the CSU to get a hold of it, TARU cleaned up the cam footage from the ballroom." She took a breath. "Hollis said he'll have it ready for us in no time, just call him when we get back."

"Perfect," he said to her. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he bit his lip, and then hit the brakes before driving off onto the road. He reached over and grabbed her chin with three fingers, his thumb brushed along the small dip between her chin and lower lip as he spoke. "Kinda like old times, huh?"

She gave a small laugh, but didn't look up at him. "Kinda," she said with a singular nod. "Not really."

He pulled up and toward him, gently prodding her head to turn to him. "Honey," he almost whispered, "We will figure this all out." He let his thumb move up to sweep over her lips. "And when we do, things'll get better."

She nodded as she lifted one of her hands, wrapped it around his wrist, and pulled his fingers away from her face. She held his hand tightly, then, and said, "I know." She blew him a kiss and said, "Let's go."

He gave her hand another squeeze, and then let go of her so he could drive. He kept his eyes on the road as his mind wandered off, drifting away to things he hadn't thought of in years, memories that seemed a lifetime ago.

Cragen's words echoed in the background of his thoughts: _I can be honest with you, now, so please, afford me the same courtesy._ He laughed, realizing that they weren't as discreet or intensely private as they'd always thought. As he made the turn down their victim's street, he exhaled and turned to her. "I love you."

She gave him a quizzical look, tilting her head. "I love you, too, but we're working so we..."

"I was just thinking," he interrupted, "How slick we thought we always were." He chuckled. "Everyone knew. We tried to hide for..."

"Why are you thinking about that," she asked, "On the way to talk to a murder victim's parents?"

He took a breath as he shrugged. "We wasted a lot of time, trying to hide this, and life...is so fucking short. I don't want to..."

"El," she said, cutting him off, "Hold that thought. We're here." She pointed to a brick townhouse and unclipped her safety belt.

He blew out a hard breath and then parked the car, got out, and tried to run to open Olivia's door before she did it herself.

She laughed and rolled her eyes, letting him play the gentleman. "Thanks," she said, and as soon as the car door was closed behind her, the pair fell into a serious professionalism, no trace of a smile on either face.

"You do it," he told her. "You're more sympathetic. Even when I'm being genuinely sincere, they always think I'm the monster that took away their baby."

Olivia shook her head. "No," she whispered as she rang the doorbell. "That only happens when you tell them what happened, when they didn't know." She looked at him and smiled softly. "You don't know how many people tell me that you're the one that brought them peace, kept them calm."

He smiled and bowed his head, almost shyly. He opened his mouth to speak, but the door opened, and his head turned sharply as he stood up straighter. Out of habit, he raised his badge and introduced himself and Olivia, calling her his partner.

She couldn't hide the grin on her face, hearing him, but she cleared her throat and said, "We have to asks you a few more questions about..."

"Come in," the woman said without waiting for Olivia to finish, stepping to the side. She was visibly shaken and she led them to the couch. "You got here fast. I only just called you, Detective."

Elliot glanced curiously at Olivia as they sat on the sofa. "Called us for what, Ma'am?" He folded his hands and gave the withered woman his attention.

The woman, the victim's mother, sat in a cushioned chair across from them. "We...we got a strange call, last night, and then this..." she lifted a thick envelope off of the coffee table with a shaking hand and held it out to Olivia. "This was in our mailbox this morning."

Olivia shot Elliot a strange look as her fingers worked the envelope open. She gasped when she pulled several small photographs out, each one depicting their victim in what could only be described as a step-by-step log of her rape and murder. "El," she said, handing them to him, "Look at this one"

Elliot looked down, though he wished he didn't have to, and saw exactly what Olivia needed him to see. "Is that a finger?" He turned the photo on its side, and said, "The guy's hand got in the way when he took this picture." He looked up at Olivia. "It's definitely not Fin's hand."

Olivia looked up. "What about the phone call, Mrs. Dixon?"

The woman's eyes began to fill with fresh tears as she tried to speak. "A man...voice like sandpaper," she managed to say. She took a breath. "He said that the cops had the wrong man, and that he wouldn't stop until he was given the credit for his work." She rubbed her eyes gently and tried to take another breath. "He told us how angry he was that someone else was...and then he said Cassie's name." She let out a sob and brought her hand to her mouth. "He called her...he called her his masterpiece."

Elliot scooted forward and rested a hand on the woman's shoulder as she shook and cried. "We'll find him," he promised her.

The woman nodded and attempted to compose herself. "We just want to put our little girl to rest." She blinked away a few tears and looked up. "If he's still out there, she will never be at peace."

Olivia slipped the photos back into the envelope and said, "We will find him, Mrs. Dixon." She stood up. "We need to take these," she told the woman, holding up the envelope.

"Sure," she said softly. She then put her hand over Elliot's, still on her shoulder, and looked up at him. "Thank you."

He nodded and offered a smile before slipping his hand away and standing up. He walked with Olivia to the front door and said, "We didn't ask her..."

"Anything we would've asked," she interrupted him, "Doesn't help us now. We have a whole new angle on this, and a whole new problem."

 ** _Peace and love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.  
**_

With a fresh cup of coffee in her hand, Olivia walked from the back of the squad room to her desk and sat down with a soft plop. She flipped over a file on her desk, opened it as she took a sip from her foam cup, and looked at Elliot, who was leaning against the side of her metal desk. "ME's report," she told him.

He picked it up with a furrowed brow. "DNA under her fingernails is match to Fin," he sighed. He kept reading and his face took on an even more confused expression. "The sample left behind didn't come from him," he said. "So, what, she got into some kind of fight with Fin, but is raped and killed later, by someone else?"

Olivia finished swallowing her mouthful of coffee, put the cup on her desk, and sat back in her chair. "According to Fin, he doesn't remember even meeting her at the party." She bit her lip and picked at the cuticles of her left hand with her fingernails. "Only one way to find out for sure."

"Make the call," he told her. "Tell them we're on the way up and to have the tapes ready to roll." He leaned over and picked up her coffee, giving her a smirk as he sipped from it.

She shot him a glare as she told someone from TARU they were heading their way. "Right, thanks," she said, and as she hung up she raised an eyebrow at Elliot. "You know better than to mess with my coffee on days like this."

He chuckled and stood up. "Let's go," he said. "I want to put this case to bed and get out of here. I'm not exactly Cragen's favorite person, right now."

"No, you wouldn't be," she said, taking her coffee back and drinking the last of it. She got up and tossed the cup in the trash, and then jutted her thumb toward the door. "Shall we?"

He walked with her toward the doorway. "I'm just doing my job," he said.

"He's confused," she told him as they stepped into the hallway. "He wanted you to come back, but not like this."

"He's mad at me because I'm not showing favoritism or turning a blind eye to a rape-homicide?" he fumed, reaching the elevator and hitting the button on the wall.

Olivia rolled her eyes as she stepped into the elevator. "I didn't say that." She exhaled. "He was trying to protect Fin, because he didn't know what happened. He's worried, and part of him is scared that Fin really..." she trailed off, not willing to voice the horrible possibility that Fin could do something so atrocious.

"He got pretty steamed up the ass when you figured out Judge Samuelson's son attacked Trevor," he whispered as other people stepped onto the stopped elevator. "You going to give me an excuse for that one, too?"

She looked at Elliot, worry in her eyes. "I don't know," she said, biting her lip. "Maybe he was being pressured from someone higher-up to put an end to the entire case. A judge was involved, and you know how those cases always have a way of evaporating into thin air." She moved closer to him when more people filed into the elevator as it made another pick-up. Her eyes took on an unsure waver as she looked over at him. "Since you've been gone, it's like he's all politics. He plays the game with the best of them, makes deals before the interrogations are even over, he hasn't had a personal conversation with any of us in..."

"Over a year," Elliot said, nodding in understanding. "That's why he didn't know about us." The elevator finally came to a stop on the eighth floor, and when the doors opened, they pushed their way out. Elliot grabbed Olivia's hand and pulled her toward the left side, rounding a narrow corner.

"Detectives," a young man chirped brightly. "That was fast." He shook Elliot's hand first, and then Olivia's, and then he made an embarrassed face and snapped his fingers. "Sorry. Sergeant Stabler and Detective Benson. Right." He waved at them to follow as he turned and headed into a cubicle. "Can I get you some coffee?"

"That'd be great, thanks," Olivia said with a smile.

The TARU specialist gestured to two chairs, set in front of a table with two large monitors and a pile of AV equipment. "On your right, the ballroom, and on your left, the hallways." He pushed a few buttons to start playing the footage, and then said, "I'll be right back."

As he left, Olivia and Elliot settled deeper into the chairs, their eyes watching the security film intently. "I got Fin," she said, pointing at the screen showing the tapes from the ballroom. "Looks like some of that wine made it into his mouth after all."

"Good," Elliot said, nodding once. "Means there's a good chance...whoa, obviously a very good chance some of those drugs got into his system." He shook his head. "What's that, his third glass in less then five minutes?"

"Why the hell was he drinking that heavily?" she asked. Her eyebrows narrowed and she bit her lip. "There's only two reasons someone drinks like that."

"Enlighten me," Elliot said, leaning a bit closer to her.

"To forget," she said raising one finger at him. She added a second finger as she said, "Or to loosen up. A lot."

"Oh, oh, Liv, look," Elliot pointed frantically at the monitor. "That's our girl."

She sat up straighter, leaned forward, and watched, focusing on the girl. She followed her to the bar, and gasped when the woman tripped and grabbed Fin's arm on the way down. "That explains how his DNA got under her nails."

"And, uh, in her mouth," Elliot said, watching as a very intoxicated young woman thanked Fin for catching her and helping her up by evidently trying to swallow him whole. "Is that what we look like?"

"No," she laughed. "We're fucking hot." She looked away from him and back toward the monitor.

Elliot turned toward the arch of the cubicle as the technician came in with two cups of black coffee and a handful of creamers and sugar packets. "Thanks, man," he said, taking the cups. He set them on the desk and started to fix them as he looked back up at one of the screens. "Where'd she go?"

"I don't know, but Fin...look," she said, tapping the screen. She and Elliot watched as Fin wobbled away from the bar with a full glass of wine, his instability causing him to drop the glass. "That's when he spilled the wine all over himself."

He handed her a cup of coffee and sipped his own as he said, "Where's he going? Okay, uh, he left the room at..." he checked the video's time stamp. "Quarter-to-eleven."

"Hey, Jameson?" She turned to look over her shoulder at the TARU officer. "Can you follow him?"

The young man nodded. "Excuse me," he said, squeezing between the two detectives. He made a few keystrokes and clicked the mouse a few times, tapped on the keyboard some more, and then backed up. "There you go."

"What about the girl?" Olivia asked. She searched both screens, each plying several camera angles. "There!" She tapped the top right block of the leftmost monitor.

The technician rolled his eyes, but got to work, running a facial recognition program that would track her movement. "Okay, on your left, you'll have footage that only follows the girl, and on your right, you'll be able to follow Detective Tutuola."

Elliot shot him a harsh but confused look.

"Yeah," the young man said. "I know who he is." He backed away slowly. "I'll leave you to it. Just yell when you're finished." He turned and left just as quickly as he'd appeared.

Elliot watched Fin's videos as Olivia watched their victim's. They both saw something that surprised them, at the same moment, and they turned to look at each other with fear and realization in their eyes.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"So what do we do now?" Olivia asked, heaving a heavy sigh as they walked toward the elevator.

Elliot shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He watched her move to give the button on the wall a hard press. "At least we can tell Cragen he was trying to protect the wrong detective," he said, almost hatefully. "How long did you say he worked here?"

"Only about a month," she told him. "He was offered a better spot in a different unit, in a different precinct, so he took it." She leaned up against the wooden paneling at the back of the elevator. Elliot rested up against her, his fingers toying with the sleeve of her blazer. She smiled at him, but shook her head. "I just don't get it."

"It's a hard pill to swallow," he told her. "But we didn't see what happened once he took her into that room. We just know that…Fin had nothing to do with it." He took a deep breath. "I can tell him he's not a killer. I can give him that."

The elevator stopped on their floor, and the conversation shifted to how to handle the investigation. "You're not going to come out of this with as many friends as you came in with," she told him.

He shot her a look, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Actually, I am." He licked his lips and furrowed his brow. "You know I haven't been friends with anyone but you and John since…since I left."

They stopped talking as they turned into the squad room, simultaneously taking off their suit jackets and tossing them over an empty chair, not caring whose landed on top. Immediately, they settled into their newly revived routine of sharing her desk space. His arms were looped over her shoulders as he typed rapidly on her keyboard. She drummed her fingers against his arm as she watched the words dance across her monitor. Neither did anything to hide the easy smiles on their faces. It felt like home.

"Well, don't you two look cozy," Cragen quipped, walking from his opened office door to Olivia's desk.

"Old habits," Olivia said with a shrug and a grin that geld more resentment and pride in its crevasses than she'd intended.

Cragen stiffened. There was his proof, he thought, that something had been brewing between them for years, long before Elliot had left the unit. He folded his arms and tilted his head. "What did you find out?"

"We cleared Fin," Elliot said, standing up straighter. He immediately missed the closeness, his lungs exhaling the remnants of her scent, and for a moment he wondered how much impropriety would be displayed if he had this conversation while playing with her hair. He shook it off and let the weight of his job fall on him. "We have another suspect, though, can we…um…" he pointed an unsure finger toward the captain's office.

Cragen nodded once, sending a warning yet concerned glance in Olivia's direction before leading Elliot into his office. He closed the door behind them.

Olivia huffed a bit as she turned her attention back toward the computer, trying to track their suspect's movements since the gala. She was in the middle of running a search on a few of his credit card numbers when her phone rang. Whipping out of her pants pocket, she spat out her last name and waited. "Really? You're sure?" she questioned, sliding her chair back and preparing to get up. "No, we'll be right down. Thanks, Melinda." She stood fast, dropping her phone back into her pocket and grabbing the two forgotten jackets. She rushed toward Cragen's door, and then knocked and turned the knob at the same time. "El, we gotta..."

"Excuse me," Cragen said, wide-eyed. "What, exactly has gotten into you?"

Olivia froze for a moment, not having expected such a harsh reaction. "Warner called. One of the guys in the lab ran tests on Fin clothes. It wasn't just wine." She looked at Elliot. "We need to ask him if he has any injuries, because..."

"Blood," Elliot concluded. "All his?"

Olivia waited, trying to make sense of it all in her head before speaking. "No," she finally told him. "We should just..."

"Yeah," Elliot said, standing up. He looked at Cragen. "We can finish this later, yeah?"

"Sure," Cragen spouted, waving Elliot away, frustrated.

Olivia held the door open for Elliot, but looked at Cragen before she made her way out of the office. "I'm sorry for interrupting, I just thought...this was important, and..."

"I know," Cragen said, interrupting. "I overreacted, I was just...Elliot told me you..." he took a breath and blinked at her, but then smiled. "Congratulations."

She smiled back at him, but left his office with a perplexed look on her face. She had no idea what he was talking about. She closed the door as she moved, catching up to Elliot. "What was that about? Congratulations, for what?"

"I had a rare moment of blunt honesty with the man," Elliot stated, grinning. He guided Olivia back out through the squad room doors and headed for the stairs. He pulled on her sleeve when she walked by him. "This way," he laughed, pushing the stairwell door open. He held it for her, and then stepped in line behind her as they walked. "Any luck finding out if..."

"He used his bank card this morning at the Starbucks on 52nd and 8th," she said, overlapping him. "Meaning he's probably at work, right now." She bit the inside of her cheek and stopped mid-step. "Do you want to..."

"Yeah," he said, cutting her off and nodding. "You let me know what Warner tells you, and I'll fill you in on what I get from Meldrick Lewis, as soon as I get back."

She took a deep breath. "Yeah," she expelled. "Hey, if we were just going to split up, anyway, why did you drag me down the..."

His lips stopped her words. His kiss made her forget what she was going to say to begin with. This was his way of telling her how much it meant to him to be working with her again, even if it was only temporary, and hopefully earn her premature forgiveness for what it was that he was about to do. "I love you," he whispered, and he gave her upper arm a hard squeeze as he bolted through the lobby's landing door, leaving her to venture down the rest of the stairs and through midtown to the lab on her own.

"I love you, too," she whispered, after he was already too far gone to hear her. She straightened out her blazer and stiffened her spine a bit, getting her head out of the clouds and back onto solid ground. She walked, trying to decide the best way to tell Munch that someone else he had known, another former partner, was now involved in the case. She hoped that she would have more solid evidence and facts before telling him anything at all.

The wind hit her as she pushed through the door to the parking lot, and she shivered a bit as she headed toward the street. The seasons were definitely changing, but the leaves were not the only thing about to fall.

 ** _Peace and love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"Oh," Olivia said, moving her elbow as Elliot dropped a fresh cup of coffee onto her desk. "Thank you." She offered a smile, but she knew he was already concerned. "Don't ask."

"Oh, I'm not asking," he said as leaned against the side of the desk. "You're just going to tell me." He took a sip of his own coffee and gazed at her with worried love in his eyes. He tugged lightly on his tie and swallowed, waiting.

"Cragen chewed me out when I got back," she confessed with a sigh. She picked up her coffee, but she didn't bring it to her lips. "He thinks I'm stepping on his toes because I'm working with you on this, and going over his head."

"Well, you are," Elliot said with finality. "And you've been given the authority to do it." He reached over and smoothed some loose curls behind her ear and winked at her. "If he wants to give anyone shit for it, it should be me." He blinked and cleared his throat, dropped his hand from her cheek, and took another sip of his coffee, watching as she finally took a sip of hers. "What did Warner tell you?"

"Blood was male," she said. "She ran it through the system and, uh, our vic wasn't the only one who had some personal contact with Meldrick Lewis." She put her coffee down and picked up a small yellow notepad. "I talked to Fin, he said he can't remember getting into a fight with anyone, but I told him...I told him why he couldn't remember. Langan is using it all to build a solid defense, and if Lewis can remember..."

"Yeah," Elliot interrupted, "He remembers." He scratched his head and licked his lips. "He said that he and John were close friends when he was out in Baltimore, and when he moved here, the first call he made was to John, looking for a transfer into the NYPD. He told me he met John at a bar, and when John left, Cassie Dixon sat in his empty seat. They had a few drinks, he took her home, and they had a casual thing for a while. The night of the gala, Cassie was supposed to be his date, but she cancelled, then showed up with another cop. Lewis got mad, confronted her, they fought. Cassie stormed off, that's when she went back into the ballroom for another drink and tripped over Fin. Meldrick saw it all happen, thought Fin was hitting on her, and he waited out in the hall until Fin stumbled out. Lewis threw the first punch, and despite being drugged, Fin hit back. Broke his nose." He stopped talking, took another sip of his coffee, and tilted his head. "So why didn't Lewis's blood come through in the first round of tests?"

"Warner didn't run a broad enough panel," she told him. "You know Melinda, she wanted to really be sure, so she ran it again and that's when it hit." She blinked. "What did you say to him?"

He squinted. "To Lewis?"

"To Cragen." She shifted in her seat, crossed her legs, and smoothed down her sweater. "Whatever it was, he's more bitter now than he was when we left." She took another sip of her coffee and sighed as she set it down again. "Anyway, Morales got something off those photos we got from Mrs. Dixon." She shuffled some things around on her desk and picked up a few glossy prints, which had been half-hidden beneath an open file. "Look," she said. She handed them to him and tapped the first photo as she said, "I know you haven't worn one in a while, but you know what it is."

"Lewis definitely doesn't have one of these," he chuckled and looked down at the photo. "Silver. Engraved." He bit the inside of his cheek and said, "That's what I said to him."

She folded her arms. "What?" She picked up her coffee and took a long, deep sip.

He licked his lips, dropped the photos back onto her desk, and took a breath. "I told Cragen we're getting married."

She stared at him as the words sunk in, as his voice echoed in her ears. "Why the fuck would you tell him that?" She put the now-half-empty cup back on her desk as she sat up straighter and stiffened.

"I told you," he said with a shrug and a smirk, "I had a moment of blunt honesty with him. I told him...why I left, he said he knew, and I told him...even though I don't work in this unit anymore, that I needed him to be the father-figure he always was for you, and for me, and that I wanted our kids to grow up thinking of him like a surrogate grandfather, since...well..." he looked down and cleared his throat, not in any frame-of-mind stable enough to think of either of their fathers. "Maybe I hit a nerve, but I made my point."

She licked her lips, blinked once, and looked over at him. "Our kids?" She felt the tug on the corners of her lips, her heart begging her to smile at the thought of having children, with Elliot.

He winked at her. "Absolutely," he said. He looked over his shoulder, sending a wary glance at Cragen's door, and then back at her. "We, uh, we may have another suspect soon, by the way."

She shook her head quickly, as if just realizing she was still at work. "Who?"

"I took a trip up to TARU on my way back, asked them to scrub the audio from that message our perp left for the Dixons. Carneget said he's going to try to get information on the number, too. He's going to give me a call as soon as they..." The ringing of his phone interrupted his words. "Speak of the Devil..." he chuckled. He answered the call and walked toward the door, anticipating having to leave.

As she watched him talk, she drank the last of her coffee and smiled. She knew the shift in certain professional ties would take its toll on the relationship she had with her team, but she felt a wave of relief knowing that Elliot would be back, close by, where he belonged. She saw him crook his finger at her as he spoke to Carneget, and she grabbed his coffee for him as she rose out of her seat.

"We got a name," he said to her, slipping his phone back into his pocket and taking his coffee from her.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "You going to tell me?"

He sipped his coffee, swallowed, and shook his head. "I don't know it, yet. He said he wants to tell us in person."

"That can't be good," she exhaled, and she began to walk with him, in step, in perfect sync.

This case was going to be a slam dunk or go cold, it was going to prove that the changes were all for the better, or prove they've made huge mistakes. It was going to bring the whole unit together, stronger than ever, or wring out old wounds and rifts.

There was no in-between.

 ** _Peace and love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"You're not going to like it," Dan Carneget, specialized agent in the TARU division said, his eyes closed it what could only be described as a preparation for pain.

"I don't care if you traced it back to grandmother, man, just tell me," Elliot spouted. He rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. He knew he was intimidating, but Dan Carneget was afraid of his own shadow on a normal basis, so he was trying to appear less threatening. "Please?" he added, an afterthought in attempt to show his softer side.

Carneget opened one eye, cautiously slid the paper in his hand toward Olivia, who he decided was the lesser risk, and quickly jerked back to avoid any temperamental eruption.

Olivia read it, gave a stunned-sounding scoff, and raised a single eyebrow as she thrust the page toward Elliot. "Suddenly, you being promoted makes a lot more fucking sense."

Elliot furrowed his brow, the sparse hairs between them converging as he looked down at the printed words. "You're shitting me," he said with a coldness in his voice that Olivia had only heard twice before, both for very personal reasons.

"See, I told you that you weren't going to like it," Carneget babbled, backing up again skittishly flailing his long fingers. "I knew the moment the numbers got that hit, and I wanted to tell you in person because I figured you couldn't hurt me if there were witnesses, but maybe I should have just told you on the…"

"Carneget," Olivia snapped, her brows forming a straight line above her eyes, "It isn't you that we're mad at, right now. You did your job." She turned her head and lowered her voice. "You always said he would find a way back into our lives," she said to him.

He whispered back, "I didn't think it would be like this." He looked up and sighed. "He killed someone, probably more than one person, and I seriously doubt he did it just to fuck with us." He licked his lips. "Tucker must have known, or had a feeling, that's why he appointed me and got out of this when he did."

Olivia smiled. "Maybe," she said. "But, maybe, it's because he knew you'd handle it better, and end it, without caving to the higher-ups to make it all go away. After all, this is a former District Attorney we're dealing with."

"Well, he did his job the first time, when we arrested him in the first place," Elliot said. He shook his head. "Made it all just go away, no one in his office had any idea why he left, and we had to sign NDAs for fuck's sake." He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. "I'm not doing this again, Liv. We go after Peluso, this time, we need something solid and we make it stick."

"We have this," she said, tapping one finger on the paper in his hands. "It's a start."

He took a breath, nodded, and turned toward Carneget, who was waiting, staring like a frightened puppy. "Good work. Thanks."

Carneget heaved a relieved sigh, smiled, and stood a little taller as he watched Olivia and Elliot leave the room.

The walk to the coroner's office was quiet, but then again, they never really needed too many words. More recently, they could almost feel each other's emotions, read each other's minds. As they stepped into the cold, clinical building, Olivia grabbed Elliot's arm and squeezed.

He turned and looked at her, and his icy demeanor defrosted. He smiled warmly at her as he nodded once, and led her toward Doctor Melinda Warner's office. "Hey, Doc," he said sharply. "We need a favor."

"Of course you do," Melinda said, rolling her eyes. Her gloved and bloodied hands rose to her shoulders, a sharp scalpel lodged between the fingers of her right hand. She spoke through a cotton mask and peered at them through a pair of plastic glasses. "Why else would you be interrupting me, right now?"

"Honestly, he can wait," Elliot joked, brushing off her bitterness. "We need you to run the trace from under Cassie Dixon's fingernails again. We have a name, we'd like you to compare…"

"This man died of a highly unexpected heart attack, Detective Stabler," Melinda interrupted. "Just because he can't get up and walk away, or complain about waiting, does not mean his family can be more patient than necessary while I put him on the back slab to run some tests for the NYPD. Tests, which, by the way, I have already run twice!"

"Um," Olivia spoke shortly after Melinda finished ranting, her voice soft and non-abrasive, "Melinda, we didn't mean to imply he isn't a priority. Is everything okay?"

Melinda glared at her for a moment, but then sighed and dropped her defensive stance. "No," she admitted. "I'm having a bad week. I'll run the tests for you, as soon as I finish with Mister Grunfeld, here. Who am I hoping to hit on? You said you had a name," she tilted her head and took another deep breath.

Elliot cleared his throat. "Brian Peluso," he said. "Former District Attorney, all around asshole."

"Wait," Melinda said, tilting her head to one side and turning her eyes up a bit. "The Red Bull guy?"

"Yeah," Elliot said, nodding.

Olivia crossed her arms and said, "He only drank so much of that shit to hide his alcohol problem." She noticed Melinda giving her an odd look. "You know, your energy spikes, your adrenaline rushes, conceals all the signs of being drunk, and he was damn good at it." She bit her lip, unwilling to look at Elliot, knowing he would ask too many questions. "We arrested him a few years back, sexual assault."

"Damn," Melinda spat harshly. "I hate it when the good guys go bad."

"I don't think this one was good in the first place," Elliot said, unaware he had reached for and grabbed Olivia's hand. "Call me when you get results, even if they aren't the ones I'm hoping for."

"Right," Warner said, and she resumed her work on Mister Grunfeld, not even flinching at the sound of the door slamming shut.

It wasn't until they got back up to the Special Victim's Unit squad room they spoke again. Elliot pulled Olivia into a quiet corner and ran both of his hands up and down her arms. "I forgot you dated that fuck," he said, concern surrounding every word. "He uh, he never…"

"El, come on," she stopped him and rolled her eyes. "I would have broken his hands, told you, and you would have killed him." She leaned into him and pressed a soft kiss to his chin. "I just wish I would have called him out on his issues when I had the chance. It would have saved a lot of girls a lot of trauma."

"No, you don't get to do that," he said, cupping her chin with one hand. "You blamed yourself for Paxton, for Sister Peg, for so many victims you had no hand in harming, and couldn't have possibly saved." He smiled. "You made up for it all, a thousand time over."

"How?" she asked, curious, smiling back at him.

"By saving me," he whispered. He leaned into her but before he could steal another kiss, footsteps and a clearing throat broke them apart. He turned and, suppressing his obvious annoyance, tried to speak with pure professionalism. "Can we help you, Captain?"

Captain Cragen eyed them both for a moment, and then he shoved his hands in his pockets. "You cleared Fin."

"Yes," Elliot affirmed, nodding slowly.

"Officially?" Cragen asked, "On paper? Filed?"

Elliot licked his lips. "He can come back to work tomorrow, if you don't think it'll cause issues around here."

"No, that's not why I'm asking," Cragen said. "There's a woman out there, and she just told Munch she was raped three days ago at a party."

Olivia squinted. "So what does that have to…"

Cragen cut her off. "She's claiming it was Fin." He took a breath. "Don't look at me like that, I know he was in lock-up and couldn't have done anything. I'm telling you…because I think it's related to your case."

"What makes you say that?" Olivia asked, "Did the parents get a phone call?"

Cragen shook his head. "No, she told John…before he left, he whispered something to her. A message. For you." He pointed to Elliot.

"Me?" he questioned, shocked. "What?"

Cragen folded his arms, rocked on his heels, and sighed again. "He said, 'Tell Stabler if his little buddy wants credit for this one, he can have it." He scratched his head. "She's got the same message on her voicemail, so it's not a case of misremembering."

Olivia looked at Elliot, worried. "What's our next move?"

He gritted his teeth and said, "We get her statement, we get her rape-kit, and then," he paused, "we get the bastard."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Elliot sat on one of the cold, metal folding chairs in the interrogation room, broodingly silent with an ice-cold glare in his eyes. He was staring at the suspect, Brian Peluso, as he slowly cracked each of knuckles, one-by-one.

Peluso seemed unfazed, but he gave a hard swallow and leaned back further in his own uncomfortable seat. "Either ask me questions, or let me go, because I have things to…"

"We got you," Elliot interrupted. "You gave us the slip a few times, you were messy, and you were sloppy, but you managed to lay the blame on so many other people. You could've gotten away with it all, you know, if you weren't so hell-bent on receiving full credit for your work."

Peluso tilted his head, greasy bangs fell over tired, grey eyes. His tongue darted out like a lizard's and swiped the sweat away from his upper lip. "You got me, huh? What does that mean?"

"It means," Elliot said, standing, "That with Cassie Dixon, too many other people had their hands in the pot. But you were the only one who had any physical contact with Natalie Danes." He folded his arms, slowly strutted over to Peluso and leaned down to him. "Your DNA, your prints. Just you."

Peluso twitched but his expression didn't change. "I fucked her, I have a life."

Elliot chuckled. "No, you know what you did, and you begged for us to find you, make sure everyone knew that it was you." His eyes narrowed. "Everyone knows, now, Peluso. Everyone."

Peluso closed his eyes and swallowed back hard again, breaking. "I…I was…" he stammered. He looked down at his shaking hands and he knew he had to drop the act and finally make the confessions he could only ever speak while intoxicated. "I was drunk, Stabler." He looked up and his sallow eyes now looked remorseful. "I don't remember…I mean, I know it was me, I know I did it, all of it, but I don't remember any of it. It's like a had these…"

"Blackouts," Elliot whispered, his eyes squinting in gross realization. "You…you wanted to get caught, because…"

"Because I can't drink in jail," Peluso said. He exhaled sharply, his angular shoulders rounding over and his head nearly hitting the table. "God, I tried on my own. I destroyed my career, my family, I ruined relationship after relationship…and then it got worse. I drank more, to feel less, and I got violent, and at first…at first I thought, sure, I'll let Tutuola take the fall. But after I sobered up and I realized what had happened, I couldn't…I couldn't ruin another life." He peered up at Elliot with shame in his eyes. "I left messages, dropped clues, but when you didn't come for me, I knew I…I went to The Crow's Nest over on Eighty-Sixth, I drank more than I knew I could handle, and I made it so that…if you had anyone to blame but me, you were shit at your job."

Elliot's arms fell to his sides, he shook his head, and he said, "You knew you were a danger to other people, so you…you set yourself up."

Peluso nodded. "I won't be able to hurt anyone else, I'll get clean, sober, three meals a day, hot showers, a gym, and time to find myself again. I know I'm never getting out, but believe me, that's the best thing for everyone." He wiped his eyes and was surprised to find he was crying. "Shit," he breathed, realizing his life mattered more to him than he thought, and that going to prison for his drunken actions would be the only way he could get that life back.

Elliot sighed again, ran a hand down his face, and slid a yellow legal-sized pad from the edge of the table to the space in front of Peluso. "Write everything down. Sign it. We'll…we'll get you…where you need to be." He dropped a ball point pen onto the metal table and walked out of the interrogation room, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Olivia had been in the viewing room, watching, and she ran her hands up and down his arms. "Breathe," she said softly.

"He reminded me so much of my father in there," he said in whisper, his voice trembling. "He used to tell us, in the morning, that he couldn't remember hitting, or yelling, at anyone. He figured if he couldn't remember then it didn't happen, and when he stopped drinking, God, it all hit him and the guilt…"

"El, baby, stop," she interrupted, pressing one cold finger to his lips. "I know. My mother used to do the same damn thing." She cupped his face and kissed him quickly, and then she said, "He did what he felt he had to do to save himself. Our parents, they just didn't have the wherewithal to do that."

He nodded and sniffled, kissed her forehead with closed eyes, and said, "Well, at least this is over. We can go back to living our lives without Cragen breathing down our necks. I can't stand the way he's been looking at me, like I totaled his new car, or some shit."

She smiled at him and brushed the back of her hand along his cheek again, and said, "We can. And we will, as soon as you clear the case with him. I'll take the confession to the ADA, you go make your final recommendations to Cragen, and I'll meet you in your…"

"Excuse me," a voice interrupted.

Olivia and Elliot turned to see Trevor Langan standing in the doorway, looking pale and nervous. "What's the matter?" Olivia asked, her hand moving from Elliot's cheek to his arm and finally to his fingers. She clutched him, hard.

Elliot squeezed back and repeated her question. "What's wrong, you don't look so good."

Trevor shook his head. "You should…you need to…just…come with me." He pulled on Olivia's free hand, subsequently yanking both of them out of the room into the squad room and toward their white case board. All he could manage to do after he dropped Olivia's hand was point.

"Whoa," Elliot said as his eyes focused on the tacked up photos and printouts. "What the hell is all this? What is…Christ, is that…"

"Yeah," John Munch said, nodding. "It is."

Olivia looked at Elliot and her brows turned inward as she said, "Looks like you're working with the unit for a little while longer."

Elliot scoffed as he once again turned his attention to the board, scanning the bloody crime scene photos and then zeroing in on an eight-by-ten photo of a one-time-colleague and friend, who had been beaten so badly she was almost unrecognizable. He pulled Olivia closer and kissed her once. "Go get Peluso's confession, find the ADA, and then get your ass back here. This is now SVU's top priority."

Olivia nodded, waved sheepishly to her squad, and jogged back into the interrogation room. Her pulse was racing, and she could feel her blood boiling. If the last case had nearly severed the remaining ties binding Cragen to Elliot, this case would, without a doubt, finish the job.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	12. Chapter 12

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Silence. Except for the low, slow, and steady mechanical beeping, there was pure silence. She took a breath and dropped her head to look at her watch, made a disgruntled sound, and resumed staring out the smudged and smoky hospital window. The sun was just starting to rise, the way it hit and refracted off of the top of the Chrystler Building made her smile slightly, reminding her why she moved back to the city after college, why she fell in love with Manhattan. And with Elliot.

She heard a pained groaning coming from the bed in front of her, and her head whipped toward the sound. She was on her feet in seconds, watching the bed-ridden woman's head rock back and forth, rousing her to consciousness. Olivia reached out a hand. "Case?"

Olivia held her breath, helplessly looking on as her former friend and colleague, Casey Novak, coughed and wheezed, struggling to move and open her eyes.

"Oliv...Olivia?" a weak voice eked out. "What…why…"

"Shh," Olivia said, tears stinging at her eyes and a burn biting behind her nose. "Don't talk, okay? Your…your throat…" and she placed one hand gingerly over the long bandage just under Casey's chin, covering the stitched up slash her attacker had so generously left behind.

Casey shook her head and squeezed Olivia's hand. Her eyes slid shut again, her head plopped back onto the pillow defeatedly, but she was still awake. "What happened?" she whispered.

"That's what we're trying to find out," Olivia said, trying to look more sympathetic than pitiful. "I need to tell you…I'm…"

"Don't," Casey interrupted. She opened one eye and looked at Olivia.

Olivia exhaled sharply. Her mind raced with tumultuous feelings of years of pent up resentment, tension, slight jealousy, and the tight line between friendship and disdain they had walked along for years. She gave a bitter chuckle and wiped away a tear that had somehow formed and fallen without her permission.

Looking back, she understood how she could have felt jealous, how she had seen the way Casey looked at Elliot, and how, at times, it was clear that Casey was acting with more than just professional courtesy toward him. It was a realization, a gross one, that this was why there had been a deep rift in their friendship. Though she knew that Elliot would never respond in kind, and probably never even noticed Casey's overt and direct flirtations, it still struck a sour chord with her, and it made her into the kind of woman…well, the kind of woman that Kathy, Elliot's ex-wife, had been toward _her_.

Casey knew, it was clear now. Casey had known about Olivia and Elliot all along, and that had caused a sharp bitterness that seeped its way into the crevices of their professional interactions and clouded their judgment, putting cases and victims, and each other, at risk. Apologies and explanations formed in the back of Olivia's throat, but she couldn't bring herself to voice them. It was too late, now, and in the grand scheme of things, too unimportant.

This wasn't the first time Casey had been attacked, but it was so much worse. It was a true Special Victim's case, now, and Olivia could do nothing but stand by, watch, wait on the sidelines. _"Conflict of interest,"_ Cragen had claimed.

Rookies were running the show, but she had her chips stacked and bets placed on Elliot, who managed to skate around any and all of Cragen's excuses owing to his new position and title. Olivia didn't trust the new guys to find a pen in the squad room, let alone a perp that had the balls to hit this close to home. Shaking her head again, Olivia tried to smile calmly. "Honey, do you…do you remember anything?"

Casey took a breath, wincing in pain as she did. Something had made a cracking sound as her lungs expanded, and it made Olivia cringe. "I was at dinner…with a…former colleague." She took another breath, slowly this time, easily. "I went to the bathroom, just to freshen up, he was…we were going to…his place." She was hesitating, as if something she was saying, or was about to say, would somehow upset or offend Olivia.

"Go on," Olivia permitted, nodding.

Casey took another timid breath. "I had just finished washing my hands, I looked up into the mirror and…he was behind me, and I…Olivia, he…he put this towel over my face and dragged me out of the bathroom, and then I…everything's just…blank."

"Did you see his face?" Olivia asked, the words catching in her throat as she spoke, the need to cry or scream or something, anything, growing greater. "Do you know who did this?"

Casey squeezed her eyes shut, nodded, and let out a strangled sob. "Yeah," she cried. "Yeah, I do." She licked her dry, cracked, split lips. "God, Olivia, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" Olivia asked, giving Casey's hand another squeeze.

Casey looked at Olivia strangely, something sharp and oddly shaped digging into the palm of her hand. She looked down and turned Olivia's hand over in hers and let out a sharp gasp. "What is…you're…who is he?"

"Come on, Casey," Olivia laughed. "You aren't in that bad of shape, you know who he is."

Casey's face paled. "Were you…were you with him? Last night?"

Olivia furrowed her brow. "Of course, I was. So were eighteen other people, we were at the station all night, interrogations, closing a case, why are you...wait, you think Elliot did this?"

Casey's breathing grew harsh and rapid as she sat up. "No, no, I just…" she licked her lips and cringed again, tasting the blood seeping out of her reopened cut. "I just thought he…I thought I saw…" she shook her head. "I guess I didn't really see his face, after all."

Olivia pulled her hand out of Casey's, slowly, and stared at the broken, bruised woman. "You thought it was Elliot," she said, a statement this time. "Either that, or you were trying to pin this on him on purpose, so which is it?"

"Neither," Casey said quickly. "Both. I…I don't know. I…I didn't see his face at first, not…not in the mirror. When I was…well, I looked up at him, and everything was so blurry, and I thought…I thought I saw…his tattoo. And then I thought it was him."

"Which tattoo?" Olivia asked, bile and anger boiling over in her stomach.

"Globe and anchor," Casey said. "Now that I'm aware, I…I know he didn't…he would never…but in the moment, it's…he's the only one I know with that tattoo, so I guess in all the fear and confusion, I saw Elliot because it's just what made sense in my head. I'm sorry."

"Well, it wasn't Elliot, but we know, uh, we know it was a marine. You've given us something to go on." Olivia sighed and bit her lip. "Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything else you can remember?"

Casey trembled as she took a deep breath, pushing herself up a bit more. Then, she looked down at her hands, turning them over, as if trying to remember the last thing she held in them. "Did they do…"

"Full rape kit," Olivia told her bluntly. "Waiting on the lab, why?"

"I scratched him," she said softly, her memory of the event becoming clearer. "A lot. His arms…the whole time he was…" she swallowed hard. "His voice, oh, God, Olivia…no, his voice…now I remember, it was like sandpaper. Nothing like Elliot's, I guess I…"

"Casey, sometime's victims try to bury the reality of it, the brain protects itself by making connections that might help it seem less traumatic, more familiar, more…acceptable." She shrugged. "You always felt safe with Elliot, and I can't blame you if your subconscious wanted to shield you from any kind of pain by turning him into Elliot." After years of practically repeating the same thing, her words were mechanical and rehearsed, but she meant every one. "What did he say to you?"

Casey tried to open her eyes a bit wider. One was swollen, the other so painfully bruised it hurt to move. "He said, he had orders, and he was just…just following orders."

"Orders? What orders?" Olivia asked.

"Liv?" a soft voice called from the doorway.

Olivia turned and her face brightened a bit at the sight of Elliot. "Hey," she said, offering a half-smile.

His face, though, remained grim. "Liv, uh," He crooked a finger at her and when she got close enough, he lowered his voice and held up his phone. "Rape kit came back."

Olivia's eyes widened. "She said she scratched him, you get anything on that?"

Elliot licked his lips and nodded. "Black body paint."

"The tattoo she saw was fake," she muttered, narrowing her eyes a bit. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, we, uh, we got a hit. He's in the system," he said, exhaling.

"I know that look, El," she whispered. "What's wrong?"

"Tox screen confirmed she was drugged," he told her. "Hallucinogenics and tranquilizers. She was dosed an hour before the attack, according to Warner. Drugs needed time to take effect." He folded his arms. "Liv, her date was her rapist, and we know what the computer spit out, but we…I need to hear it from her."

Olivia tilted her head. "El, just tell me, I can…"

"Ask her," Elliot said, his voice slightly colder.

Not wanting to risk making him more upset or aggravated, she turned. "Casey, uh, who did you say you went to dinner with, last night?"

"I didn't," Casey said sheepishly. "I didn't know how you would take it, but, uh, now that I know you're…well…taken," she exhaled. "Brian."

"Brian?" Olivia shook her head, unaware that she should feel a connection to the name. And then it hit her. "Brain!" She looked at Elliot. "Cassidy?"

Elliot nodded and lowered his voice again. "I needed her to say it," he said. "Once his name popped up on the computer, we got a phone call from the marshal's office. He's off limits, unless the victim identifies him. I needed her to do that."

"What?" she spat, confused. "What the hell did we step into, here?"

"No idea," Elliot said, "But what I do know is…" he pulled a clear, plastic bag out of his pocket and handed it to Olivia, "He was either sending me a message, or trying to pin this on me." He sighed. "Danielson said it was classified information, and that whatever was done, he was just following orders."

She took a look at the silver chain, rolling her fingers over it for a moment. "These aren't yours. Dickie has yours."

"I know that," Elliot said with a single nod. He tapped a finger against the dog tags. "These aren't even real tags. Aluminum. But all my information is correct. So I don't know what to think, here, all I know is, I'm heading down to the district attorney's office now, and, uh, I need you to come with me."

"Me? Why?" Olivia asked.

Elliot grabbed her hand and held it up. "This is why. We come as a set, you know that. Everyone fucking knows that. If Cassidy is out there, using my name…"

"Then someone else is out there using mine," she finished for him.

They shared a worried look, glanced back at Casey, and waved to her as they walked out, heading into an uncertain evening, for the first time knowing they needed to look over their shoulders at every turn.

 ** _Glad to be back to regular updates! Peace and Love._**

 ** _Jo_**


	13. Chapter 13

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

The human condition. It's what made people laugh and cry, gave them hope and despair, made them feel sympathy or apathy, caused them to swell with pride, swell with lust, or swell with fury. At this moment, Olivia mentally cursed the human condition. She had never felt so many different emotions at once, not like this. She was pissed off beyond belief, she was confused and hurt, she had fallen in love with Elliot all over again and something in the way he twitched and growled when he was infuriated made her entire body ache with need. She smirked at him, watching out of the corners of her eyes as he loomed threateningly over Brian Cassidy, like a lion stalking his prey.

"Once again," Elliot said coolly, despite the fire in his eyes. "From the beginning." He cracked his knuckles. "It may be the deciding factor in whether or not you leave this room in one piece or in a body bag."

Cassidy heaved a sigh and rubbed his palms over the knees of his jeans, trying to wipe away the sweat. "I knew you'd get the message, that you two would take the case," he said first, and then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "I'm, uh, in a bit of a bind, here, and the only one…well, two people, who could get me out of it, are you and Benson."

"I need you to tell me why, again, because I'm trying to wrap my head around it, and I can't," Elliot fumed, his nostrils flaring and his fists clenched.

Brian looked over at Olivia, the expression on her face unreadable. "Mason Harding," Cassidy said, "My boss. He needed me to take this case, deep cover, and this one guy…man, he found me out, told me he wouldn't blow my cover if I did him a favor. A couple of favors."

Elliot inhaled, let it slowly as if trying to keep himself from exploding, and he said, "Frame me, implicate Liv, attack an ADA."

Brian nodded. "I left those tags behind, not to frame you, man, to tell you I was in trouble. I knew once your unit got wind of it, you'd take it. I mean, it's Novak. I hoped that when Casey started talking…she would tell you…well, that it was you, and I knew you had an alibi, so you'd figure it all out." He blinked twice and looked up at Elliot. "Man, this guy…he's dangerous, okay? I had to do what he asked…I couldn't risk blowing my cover. He said he'd...he'd kill me, and then he'd go after…" his eyes drifted toward Olivia.

Elliot narrowed his eyes before following Cassidy's movement, and then his heart stopped. He tugged at his tie, loosening his collar, and snapped back toward Cassidy. "His name," Elliot barked. "Now."

Cassidy shook his head firmly. "No, no way," he said, rising from his seat. "You got this far, you were given the green light to get in on my investigation, but, Stabler, man, if I tell you, my cover is down the shitter, and everything I worked to build up with this case is…"

"What the fuck," Elliot snarled, grabbing Cassidy's collar, "is his name?" He tightened his grip on Cassidy, pushing him up against the wall. "I don't give a shit about your case, you son-of-a-bitch, who the fuck put you up to this?"

Cassidy flinched, but then worked up the nerve to push Elliot away. He pulled down his sleeves and cursed under his breath at Elliot. "Dirty cop," he said.

Elliot didn't miss a beat. "Like you?"

Cassidy took a step toward Elliot. "And you, right? You've done your share of shit! I don't think there's a single rule in the fucking department that wasn't bent or broken to save your ass. You and your precious partner got away with more than any other crooked cop I've ever seen!"

Elliot shot up a lewd gesture and turned to punch the wall beside him, rather than hurt Cassidy. He gave himself a moment, harsh breathing and tightly closed eyes. "Cassidy," he said, his voice wavering, "This is my life you're fucking with. Mine and Liv's. Just please tell me who the hell…"

"Voight!" Cassidy snapped. "Fuck…man, it's Hank Voight."

The room went silent. Olivia gasped from her spot on the chair in the corner. "Is he…part of the…"

"Investigation?" Cassidy finished. He watched Olivia nod. "Yeah. But not…not in the way you want him to be. I didn't know, when I took this case, that he spent time at the Sixteenth. That he knew you, and that he saw…" he cleared his throat. "Well, that's how he recognized me, but he doesn't know that he's the target, and I need it to stay that way."

"So, what," Olivia said, finally rising and acting on one of the tumultuous emotions she'd been harboring all day. She lunged for Cassidy, but would up in Elliot's protective arms. She clawed at him as she spoke, hoping he'd cave and let her go. "I'm supposed to just let you get away with this? Walk away, after knowing you were paid off for raping one of my…"

"Nothing happened," Cassidy said, holding up a hand. "You don't want to believe me, I got it on tape. Okay, I drugged her, I carried her out through the back of the place, I left as much evidence as I could to lead you right to me, but I swear, she was never…I mean, I never…" He rubbed a hand down his face and rushed over to a shelf near the door. He grabbed a memory card, held it in his hands for a while, and then held it out it to Elliot. "I recorded this, for you, in case Voight…in case anything happened to me. Show it to Casey, too, please? I don't want her to think…" he stopped himself. "I needed her to end up in the hospital, make headlines, I needed it to look legit so that Voight would think I did what he wanted."

"You traumatized an innocent woman," Olivia said, "Made her think it was Elliot. I don't know how you can't expect us to just ignore this until you…"

A knock on the door interrupted her. Brian moved fast, looking through the peep-hole. "Shit," he spat. He turned and whispered, "You can't ignore it, now, anyway." He looked back at the door, fear and worry in his eyes. "It's Voight."

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	14. Chapter 14

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Where were you?"

"Did you see what happened?"

"Are you sure he had a weapon?"

"This is going to blow the whole case! You weren't thinking!"

The questions were flying, but her only answers were slight nods of her head, or shrugs of her shoulders. She couldn't focus, not on anything but the foreboding metal door across the hall. Her nails were now a chewed, broken mess, a waste of a thirty dollar, three-day-old manicure. Her lip was bruised from where she had it clamped between her teeth for the past twenty minutes. Her heart, somehow shattered and beating too fast at the same time, was thumping against her chest.

"Olivia."

She turned with wide eyes at the voice that had uttered her name, and for a moment, she thought it belonged to someone else. "God," she sighed, getting out of her seat and rushing to the man and woman who had appeared at her side. "I don't know anything, they wouldn't tell me anything, because I'm not his…"

"Shh," Trevor hushed, pulling away from her. He let her fall into the arms of the blonde woman beside him, Alex, who had more of a right to comfort her than he did. "I'll see what I can do," he said, eying the nurse's station before heading for the nearest office.

"What happened?" Alex said, her hands on Olivia's shoulders, keeping her still as she looked into her eyes.

Olivia took a deep breath. "We got caught up in a…Brian he…"

"Cassidy?" Alex questioned. "Why doesn't it surprise me that he's responsible for this?"

Olivia laughed through her tears. "Yeah, well, he was trying to pull El and me into his case, said he needed to warn us that this guy was coming for us…someone I knew, that I…that I trusted." She exhaled sharply. "He must've been tipped off that we knew, and he showed up at Brian's, he was…he had a knife to Brian's throat and a gun aimed at….at me. Elliot…God, Elliot…he threw himself onto…"

"Who?" Alex interrupted. "Olivia, who?"

"Hank," Olivia almost whispered. "Hank Voight."

Alex looked confused. "From Chicago? How the hell did he…"

"Cassidy was undercover," she said, cutting Alex off and closing her eyes. "Pretty deep. Drug rings, sex trafficking, all run by dirty cops, and Voight…he recognized Cassidy, used him to try to pull Elliot down, take me along for the ride. Guess he's pissed I turned down his offer." She scoffed. "Both offers."

"Oh, Benson," Alex breathed. "He didn't."

She nodded. "He did," she said with a twisted mouth and briefly raised brows. "Offered me a job in the same breath as asking me to dinner." She looked over her shoulder toward the metal doors again. "I turned him down, twice, and he knew…he knew that the reason for both was the same." She froze when the doors swung open, a man in blue scrubs and a yellow, paper robe coming into view. Her hands curled and her nails dug into Alex's arms.

"Are you Mrs. Stabler?" the doctor asked, pointing a gloved finger at Olivia.

There was barely a breath of hesitation before she said, "Yes!"

"Sorry," the doctor offered, pulling his mask down off of his mouth and stepping toward her. "They didn't tell me you were his wife. I would have…"

"Please," Olivia stopped him, holding up a hand. "Just tell me….he's okay. He has to be okay." Fresh tears formed and fell, her eyes stuck open wide despite their burning.

"He's going to be just fine," the doctor said with a sympathetic smile. "The wounds were deep, but they all missed vital organs and arteries, just barely, though. He's very lucky. They're moving him into a recovery room, and as soon as he's settled…" he paused, spotting the shiny, silver badge now cupped in her hand, the knuckles turning white. "Or, you know, you can follow me."

Olivia gave Alex a grateful smile and took off on the heels of the doctor.

Alex laughed and turned knowingly toward the man behind her. "What did you do?

Trevor shrugged. "Had a few words with the Chief-of-Staff about how insensitive his doctors were," he said. He put an arm around Alex. "And I did a friend a favor."

Alex kissed his cheek and whispered something into his ear which made him blush.

He smiled at her and moved in for another kiss, but he stiffened and cleared his throat, backing away and straightening up. "Good evening, Captain Cragen," he said, nodding at the man who had just approached him.

Cragen, pale and shaky, looked at him. "Is he…" he paused to avoid a crack in his voice. "How is he?"

"He's going to be okay," Trevor said. "Olivia's with him now, and a couple of officers from the local precinct took over with Cassidy."

"Voight?" Cragen asked, his eyes narrow.

Trevor gave him a smug grin. "He came toe-to-toe with Stabler. You think he made it out alive?"

Cragen shook his head. "This is my fault," he said. "This shouldn't have…I mean, if I had just…"

Trevor interrupted him. "A lot of things in their lives are your fault," he said, honestly and bluntly, "But this? No, this was…"

"My fault," Cragen said. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm the one who gave Cassidy this assignment. I'm the reason…"

"Excuse me," a soft voice interjected. "Where's Elliot?"

Cragen turned. The familiar voice sent a chill down his spine. He turned and tried to smile. "Kathy," he said, and then he took a long look as each of Elliot's children, smiling sadly at how much they'd grown since the last time he'd seen them. Since he'd been welcome in their lives. "I don't know much. I just know…he's okay. How did you…"

"Olivia called," Kathy said, a new-found relieved tone in her voice, though her hands still gripped her youngest son's shoulders. "When she told me…well, I had to bring the kids, and he may not be my husband anymore, but I…"

"Mom," Dickie, the oldest boy, stopped his mother from trying to explain. "Calm down. We're all one family now, that's why we're here. You don't owe him an explanation." He glared at Cragen. "According to Dad, he owes us one."

"Excuse me?" Cragen said, his eyes now narrowed. He felt as though he was looking at a younger version of Elliot, down to the aggravated bend in his eyebrows. "Explanation for what?"

"You know what," Dickie snapped. "Look, just tell me where my father is? I want to be with him and Liv, and get the hell away from you."

"Richard!" Kathy scolded. She gave him a disapproving glare before turning apologetically to Cragen. "I'm sorry, he shouldn't have…"

"He's right," Cragen sighed. "I do have some explaining to do, but now is really not the time."

Trevor's phone beeped, breaking the tension just a bit. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the text message from Olivia. "He's in room 315," he told the group. "I think we should send Kathy and the kids up first, huh?"

Cragen stared at Trevor for a moment, and then he nodded and took a seat in the nearest chair. He exhaled and let his weary eyes close. This was going to be a long night, and one he finally did give the explanation he held inside, there was going to be absolutely no going back.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	15. Chapter 15

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Honestly," Elliot moaned, rolling his eyes. "Benson gets a few bumps and bruises, you all wait on her hand and foot. I almost die, and you throw more paperwork at me, like I have nothing better to do."

Fin laughed. "We like her better," he said, rearranging things in his desk. He'd finally been cleared, reassigned, and was eager for his first full day back in the saddle.

Elliot shot up a finger. "My right arm's in a sling, you going to sign all of these for me?" He saw the harsh expression he was getting in return and sneered, "Didn't think so." He looked around, took a breath, and shook his head. "I really didn't realize how much I missed this place," he sighed.

"Eh," Olivia intoned, giving him a slight smile. "Knowing this unit, you'll be here a lot."

He chuckled again and shook his head. "Oh, I know, believe me."

Munch pushed his glasses up higher on his nose as he sat back a bit and looked at Elliot. "So what happened with Cassidy?"

"Well, uh, when he gave his statement, he…" he paused to clear his throat. "He went back to work. He was right. He's the only one who can see his case through to the end. Cover story is he got into with Voight over missing product, no one asked questions."

Fin nodded once. "That's why nothing about any of this made the papers," he said. "How deep is he?"

"It goes beyond Voight," Olivia said. "Beyond Chicago. He's close to ending it, but it…he's in pretty deep, yeah."

Munch scoffed and folded his angular arms. "I still can't believe Cragen. Chief offers that case to this unit, he fucking handed it over to Narcotics, gave Cassidy the assignment," he huffed. "It's a career making case! Any of us could have…"

"Me and Liv are too established. Too well-known," Elliot interrupted. "No one would buy either of us turning dirty. Munch, no offense, but you look more like a Rabbi than a drug smuggler, and everyone in Narco knows that Fin doesn't play in the sandbox with the bullies." He scratched at the fabric of his sling, shaking his head. "Cassidy had experience at SVU and in Narcotics, he is a pretty damn believable asshole, and he didn't get a lot of press to himself, so those guys don't know he hasn't been corrupt since day one."

Munch hummed. "Guess you talked to dear old Captain," he said.

Elliot nodded. "I had to," he shrugged. "Couldn't close this case, and Fin's, without turning over that stone." He bit his lip and leaned against Olivia's desk, sitting on the edge of it. "He had a lot to say, actually. A lot of, uh, old smoke was cleared."

"So you two good?" Fin asked.

"Are you kidding?" Elliot questioned, grimacing slightly. "We'll never be good. Not after...after everything he…"

"What?" Munch asked, after a brief pause. "With Fin? He was just trying to protect…"

"No, man," Elliot interrupted. "With me. With…" he took a deep breath. "When I shot Jenna, Cragen told me the same thing he told Fin. Keep your mouth shut, and it'll go away. Well, a month later I was in therapy and out of a job, because Cragen informed me that if I didn't give a full statement and take some of the heat, they were cutting my pension." He looked at Munch, then at Fin, finally turned to Olivia. After a moment, he looked back at Munch. "I have kids, a family, and Cragen still told me I shouldn't say a fucking word, so I…"

"Put in your papers," Munch said, nodding in understanding. He glanced at Olivia.

Elliot laughed almost bitterly and held up a hand. "I called her, we talked about it, and I was…with her…by then."

Munch blinked. "But she…she was so…"

"John," Olivia spoke, "I had him with me at home, but it doesn't mean I didn't still hurt like hell without him at work. Especially since I knew…the reason Cragen told him to keep his mouth shut…"

"Was to keep his ass out of hot water," Fin said, nodding. "Yeah. I figured. Internal investigation of the century, would've cost him his desk if not his badge."

Elliot nodded. "Girl gets a gun through screening, into a fully staffed unit, raises some questions, and he didn't want to have to answer them." He looked toward Olivia. "The whole time he promised me he was protecting me," he closed his eyes, mourning the losses and thanking God for the gains it all caused. "He was just looking out for himself."

Munch turned and looked over his shoulder at Cragen's closed door. "Is he in there?"

"No, no, he, uh, he's in a meeting with Tucker." He stood up straight and looked around. "That's why I haven't gone back to my office, yet. Lord knows I'm going to be there all night, as it is, trying to sign all of those reports with my left hand."

"No you're not," Olivia said, smirking. She looked up from the file in her hand, saw three faces staring at her, and shrugged. "I sign his name better than he does," she said. "I've been signing things for him for years, don't even pretend you didn't know that. It's the only way we ever got out of here at a decent time." She laughed and finished signing the last page. She tossed her pen down and leaned back. "If I waited for him to do his own paperwork, my landlord would've filed a missing person's report."

After a round of laughs, Elliot spoke again. "You guys know this…none of this was personal. I was…"

"Doing your job," Fin finished for him, nodding. "I, uh, I guess I should thank you."

Elliot held up a hand. "Don't, really."

"Excuse me," someone called from the hallway.

All heads turned to see a tall, younger, blonde woman carrying a box standing in the doorway. "Special Victims," Fin called. "Can we help you?"

"Uh," the woman stammered, walking toward the desks, "Maybe. I was told to come down here, talk to Captain Cragen, sign some stuff. I work here, I think," she said. Looking around, though, she seemed confused. "Don't I?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah," he said, standing up straight. "You do." He looked at the team, smiling. "This is Amanda Rollins. She, uh, well I guess…she's my replacement."

"Finally," Munch said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "It's about damn time."

"Cragen will be back in an hour or two," Elliot said. "Until then, Munch and Fin will show you around. If you need anything…"

"I know where to find you," Rollins said. "Thank you, Sergeant."

Elliot nodded at her and then moved backward toward Olivia, leaving the three detectives to get to know each other. "Before you ask, yes, I sat in on the interview, and yes, she's a woman for all the reasons you think." He kissed her softly.

"You and Fin seemed friendly," she said, glancing at him over Elliot's shoulder.

Elliot made a dismissive noise. "No, uh, we…we're not friends, Liv. And we probably won't be. I'm okay with that." He brushed a hair out of her eyes and gave her a sad smile. "I've accepted the fact that, besides you, I no longer really have personal ties to this unit, or the people in it, and I'm really…okay. We're on good terms, which will make life little easier, but it can't go back to the way it was. We all know that."

She nodded, sighing softly, and said, "Yeah, we do."

He kissed her lips. "I'll be in my office till six, then I'm coming to pick you up and we are going the hell home."

"Sounds like a plan," she said, nodding firmly. She straightened out his tie as a warmth filled her eyes. "It was a pleasure working with you, Sarge," she said with a wink.

"Oh, we're definitely working with each other again," he told her. "You, uh, you should have read that last file before you signed it, Liv." He leaned closer and whispered, "You don't know what you got yourself into." He kissed her again and shot one last look at the squad room before making his way out.

Olivia, with a furrowed brow, looked down at her desk and grabbed the file off the top of the pile. She sat down and flipped it open and her eyes widened. "Son-of-a-bitch," she laughed, seeing it clearly, in black and white, that she was now the official IAB liaison in the unit, and could be called upon to assist in any and all internal investigations as long as no conflict could be discerned. She laughed to herself as she flopped the file back down.

She should have known. He wanted to have his cake and eat it, too, and he would not stop until he got exactly what he wanted. With Elliot, it was always all or nothing. There were no grey areas. There was absolutely no in-between.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


End file.
